


Kiss the Cook

by Silently_Invisibly



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Between Tokyo Ghoul and Tokyo Ghoul: re, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Bloody Kisses, Bloody Smut, Cannibalism, Cannibalism Play, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, F/M, Ghoul Cannibalism (Tokyo Ghoul), Ghoul Sex, Gore, Graphic Description, Scent Kink, Shameless Smut, Tags May Change, Tokyo Ghoul: re, human cannibal and ghouls, in for the long haul, probably add more later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:41:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22312678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silently_Invisibly/pseuds/Silently_Invisibly
Summary: The greatest (unheard of) chef of modern time, she's studied under the renowned cooks in the UK and Japan! But deciding to move back home, and make a name for herself, Yuri Miyoushi come back to the heart of Tokyo after completing her studies and opens up her very own restaurant that quickly becomes praised by critics and reviewers nationwide. Oh, and she's also a cannibal...
Relationships: Tsukiyama Shuu/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 27





	1. Moon-Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATE: So I was unaware I accidentally posted this story twice. XD thanks Anon for pointing that out. Lol
> 
> Hello everyone! I've wanted to post this story on here for quite some time, but never got around to it. lol I have a great love for this story as for my character Yuri as she continues to reveal her character to me, and as well as the dynamic duo of Shuu and her together that will become incredible I'm certain. Lol I've always loved a dark and morbid love story so it's no surprise this concept came to me, and more so not surprising since I love Hannibal Lecter and so a female version of him with a ghoul just seemed like a match made in heaven. xD 
> 
> I don't really have a beta, so please excuse the errors I'm sure you will find, I try my best to spot them when I can, I have issues with the the past tense writing getting mixed up. But if anyone out there is a fan and or would like to volunteer don't be afraid to send me a DM!
> 
> That said, I hope you enjoy the ride~!

_The taste of love is bittersweet,_

_The taste death is luscious and savory._

_Both are addicting._

* * *

_It was her eyes that stopped him as well as became the catalyst of the events that if he’d only known what walking down a dank alley would bring, Tsukiyama very well might have turned around in fear that very moment..._

_The moon was full, the air was fresh and clean from the recent downpour, washing away the scent of blood from all but the most sensitive of noses and hungry ghouls._

_His competition for the girl lay lifelessly against the concrete, chucked aside like a child would a toy that no longer held their attention. Such a weak, useless fool… he was a Class A ghoul, nothing like the likes of, the now dead, scrounger._

_Her back against the cold wall, the girl, looking up at him and seeing a crescent mask covering the left side of his face—looked at him in such a way that made Tsukiyama pause over her, as if he was some savior. She should know better, he thought. His kakugan shined bright red; even frighteningly so, and the darkness around him accentuated it to make his visible eye the only light shining in the night._

_That should’ve been enough to tell her what he truly was._

_He was no savior. Tsukiyama would feast upon her, tonight._

_“Are you going to eat me?”_

_“Oh, but of course,_ mon cheri.”

_A chuckle was heard, and yet it never occurred that it was from himself..._

_What a funny human… though, perhaps he also, was unwell? Perhaps she withdrew into the safety of her own mind to escape the terror in order to cope with her inevitable demise? The way she spoke bother him oddly enough, it was too calm. A perturbing outcome to be denied the satisfying sight of fear in your victim’s eyes._

_Should he wait then? Draw it out, allow the realization to sink in a bit more and have it seep into her core? Delayed gratification always had the best payout; lying in wait inside a fabricated disguise of protection. That’s all this was… just another means of prolonging the hunt and marinating the main course._

_The smell emanating from her was heavenly, it was tempting him to break his resolve and devour her right then and there. Her eyes, pale and luminescent, were beautiful and he felt a dangerous pull from them. Blood red met stardust._

Moon-Eyes _, the would-be-savior named her. Just like the one above them, big and bright against the dark skies of Tokyo. Her dark tresses were the same; like the spun darkness that webbed the lights together and trapped the planetoid._

_Once more, the alarming thought that he was looking at the elusive night sky within a sole being was startling. Would a star fall if he killed her, would a planet die? It only seemed logical that she belonged to another constellation, or abandoned by a distant universe unlike this one._

_The sudden track of mind that led to the cliche made him cringe,_ ‘what the hell, Shuu?!’ _Blinking, he returned to the cold indifference that was far more appropriate than contemplating a possible astral being._

_Stepping closer to her and inhaling the aroma, he shivered._

_Astral or not, she would be perfect for tonight’s entrèe._

_“It’s okay,” Moon-Eyes muttered, “if this is how I go, I don’t mind.” She seemed at peace with her demise now, regardless of the struggle he witnessed not moments before stumbling upon her. “If it is someone like you, I think it’d be best. Besides,” she laughed ruefully “it would be a fitting end for me.”_

_Silence hung heavy in the air and it felt like an eternity before the sound of his shoes broke it as he moved towards her and knelt over her prone body. She’d given the invitation, all he had to do now was follow through._

_Tearing his eyes away from hers to better concentrate on her flesh, inching closer, hands on the cold, wet stone beside her head; Tsukiyama took a deep breath. A juicy, tangy aroma floated up from her ghost-like skin with the subtlest hint of something sweet hiding underneath. He moaned._

This scent…Her blood is what I imagine fruit to taste like.

_“Please, I’m ready now sir.”_

Sir? _He felt bewildered yet amused as he threw his head back in a dramatic laugh, hand going up to his mask. “You speak to me as though I were a gentleman and not some vile creature ready to swallow you down, piece by delicious piece_ mon cheri!” _He exclaimed punctuated by another little fit._

Moon-Eyes _simply shrugged from her position beneath him, offering up a tiny smile and a light chuckle of her own. “You speak like one.” Lifting a hand to his face her smile grew as she marveled at the softness of his skin. “A monster? No. An angel… yea, a beautiful angel; and your eye…I love the colors. I'm glad I could see something like this before I died.”_

 _The look she gave him—it was almost as if they shared some kind of understanding—some_ secret _that he could not even begin to grasp. This--and her eyes--made him believe that she_ was _something far from ordinary._

_Startled, he jerked his face away as though her touch burned him when in reality it was her words._

_He got to his feet and retreated further away as the conflict within himself intensified. He knew he had to leave, but it didn't make sense! She was willing! She wanted to die, why didn’t he_ just _eat her?! Walking backwards even more, his back hit the wall. Tsukiyama watched as she sat up and her face contorted into utter despair,_ she _reached out for_ him! _It was absurd, but it was like she was begging him not to go, not to leave her_ alive.

“ _Pardonnez-moi ma dame, et bonne soirée_ .” _He bowed as his mask mocked her pain. Though there was no smile on his face. Sweeping is arm back up elegantly, he leapt into the sky and out of the alley of the dark, dank, and pitiful._

 _Only one thought remained:_ Farewell Moon-Eyes _._

* * *

**_Three months later_ **

“This is still cold in the middle! Who cooked this?!” Yuri roared storming through the back end of the kitchen of her restaurant. It had only been open for a couple of months but after good business and rave reviews from renowned critics, it had quickly reached acclaimed status. Thus came a reputation that had to be maintained. Being the head chef and owner, she ruled her kitchens with an iron fist and a sharp eye; keeping her staff and their entrees’ to standard. Anything that was subpar never touched a server's hands and should such a travesty occur, there was hell to pay.

“Well? Anyone want to fess up?” She shouted as her tightly bound hair snapped behind her like a silk whip.

Out of the den of sizzling food, clattering pans and singing knives came a rather timid and embarrassed voice. “Uhh…M-ma’am I-I did…” A young man with shaggy, auburn hair stepped forward.

“Harada…” she sighed deeply “why am I not surprised? Honestly, despite me telling you multiple times the correct temperature to cook steak you somehow still manage to screw it up. I don’t care that you’re a newbie here, if I tell you something more than once, I expect it to be done right!” She barked throwing the practically mooing slab of meat at his feet. Stalking over to the counter she grabbed two slices of brioche and slapped them against the sides of his head. “What are you Harada?!” She demanded as he began to quiver, his eyes shut tight in humiliation. The other cooks either giving him pitying looks or averting their gazes.

“A-an idiot sandwich…”

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.” Yuri smirked.

“AN IDIOT SANDWICH CHEF!” He cried loud enough for the whole kitchen to hear.

“That’s right,” she smiled removing the brioche from his ears “and until I see a proper meal produced from your hands that’ll be your name. Is that understood everyone?!” She said as poor Harada nodded to a chorus of, “yes Head Chef’ from everyone else in the kitchen as he slunk back to his station.

Shaking her own head in exasperation Yuri cast her eyes skyward as though asking for strength. She’d just about had it with that rookie. She’d been babysitting him for over a week now and he was constantly making mistakes; no more competent than a toaster that kept burning bread. “At least a toaster actually cooks the damn bread though.” She snarled returning to her own food to make the final touches.

The calming white noise of whisks in bowls, pans thudding against stoves, and plates being passed from person to person as she reached her station helped to cool her temper. Everyone in the kitchen was giving her a wide berth now and she took a deep, settling breath. Since she had recently fired a young woman a week before they were terrified of her _._

It hadn’t been pretty...their fear was justified, but that woman had been let go for good reason. She was a terrible, pathetic excuse for a cook. When Yuri had explained this to her professionally during her termination, said bitch had snapped and resorted to calling Yuri’s own culinary skills into question. Enraged, the argument had only escalated; and Yuri almost turned it physical by slapping the uppity little wrench right across her face. The nerve of that–

Clenching her fists and closing her eyes she took another even breath. It didn’t matter anymore. Focus on the food. That was what was most important. With her center restored, she returned to the task at hand.

“Head Chef, there’s an order for the ‘Midnight Special’ on table eight.” A server called through the window.

“Alright! I’m on it soon as this is done.” She responded throwing a dash of salt onto the plate of duck breasts. Finishing it up with a garnish and arranging the vegetables she passed it off to another server before disappearing into the back to procure the ingredients for the special order.

The meat, as well as the dish, was a family secret; or so was her excuse. She guarded them both tightly and refused to share her knowledge. None other than her would ever prepare the meal all her customers applauded. Another stipulation for working here of course; and if someone couldn’t accept that, well then, they were out.

Even with such strict rules in place there was a lingering curiosity regarding the dish among her employees. Some still wondered about why only she could make that order. After all, it couldn’t be that difficult, could it? They wanted to question her but after seeing the first few brave ones who did get the boot for it, they didn’t dare.

It was mostly out of pride that Yuri told her underlings they were prohibited, but there was another very specific reason behind her warnings. The truth of the matter was that she simply didn’t want them knowing that the secret ingredient in the special was human organs.

The organs used would always be pre-chopped off-site and in easily concealable containers, which she then brought into work and placed in the fridge; kept in a metal safe in the back of the cooler which only she possessed the keys to. After all, walking out of the cooler with a bucket containing a whole heart resting on ice wouldn’t go over well. Hence the reason she did all the chopping at home and returned the carefully disguised, innocent looking pieces to work the next day. 

‘Midnight Special’ though cliché, provided the perfect lack of information regarding the contents and her customers seemed to love it. She also wasn’t that imaginative when it came to naming her dishes, so it worked out.

Her customers loved it so much so that it was the second most requested order on the menu so she had to keep the portions small. If she didn’t, she’d be running out on a regular basis and that would cause problems in more ways than one.

People would always ask what exactly it was that filled their stomachs and it was always a bit of a thrill. She never gave a straight answer, instead smiling politely and replying “it’s a family secret” before heading back into the kitchen after thanking them for their kind words. No one was ever the wiser or realized what it was they had just consumed.

The kick she got out of serving humans to themselves was a rush and it was that excitement that had her putting the dish on the menu in the first place. The adrenaline surge she got from the risk of being found out was like nothing else and then the satisfaction of seeing her customers enjoy the most sinful of sins and get away with it; she wanted to smile like a madwoman every time they complemented her.

The key to everything was caution. She did not need any Doves on her doorstep and carelessness would certainly bring them knocking. She wasn’t a Ghoul by any means but as she prepared her ingredients for tonight’s dish, she thought there really wasn’t much that separated her from them. The one thing she lacked was the abilities and advantages that came with being one. She still killed and consumed her fellow man and that would be all the Doves needed to hand down a death sentence or lock her away for the rest of her life.

Making her selection, she grabbed a small container of diced lung. A bit of seasoning and cooked medium-well, it would look like any other animal organ. It wasn’t a hard task, making human look like dead animal. After all, humans were animals weren’t they? Cow, sheep, goat; she could do it all. As long as the customers didn’t complain. there was no reason to suspect.

The meat began to brown to a proper color, leaving the inside just pink enough. She added the last of the spices for the presentation and began to plate. This dish would remain simple and elegant.

Each meal was like a ballet, each element a dancer, a musician, a part of the stage. Complementing, and strengthening... adding what other did not, making up for what another lacked. Occasionally Yuri felt like adding a spice ruined the natural flavor of the meat she worked with but alas, it was necessary to disguise her cooking.

“Order up!” She yelled, placing the food on the rolling cart ready for table five.

* * *

“Oh Tsukiyama you are just too much!” The bright red headed woman beside him laughed. Julie, a tourist vacationing in Japan, had run into her dashing date for the night two weeks ago and was instantly smitten. With his flair for the finer things in life and his elegant manner he’d treated her like a noble lady from a fairytale and who was she to deny her girlish fantasies? Besides, she was only going to be in Japan for another couple of weeks before returning home anyway.

 _“Ah, but Mon petit, it’s is most definitely true!”_ Tsukiyama smiled as he took her hand in his, kissing her delicate fingers which made her giggle and blush.

“Excuse my intrusion but your food has arrived.” The clean cut maître‘d informed as the platters of food were placed before the couple before silver domes were removed to reveal the dish beneath. Steam wafted up to their noses, Julie inhaling and sighing blissfully as she appeared to drool. However, Tsukiyama seemed visibly startled, smile falling from his face and eyes zeroing in on the innocent looking food on his plate _._

“This smells divine, thank you,” lifting her fork and knife Julie began to eat. Cooing with delight as the first bite of succulent meat hit her tongue she smiled and closed her eyes to savor the taste. Swallowing she took a few more bites before she noticed her date wasn’t eating. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you going to eat?” She asked curiously.

Blinking away his shock he chuckled and smiled charmingly over to her. “Of course my dear,” flipping his napkin out over his lap he lifted his utensils over his plate “but to truly enjoy a gourmet meal such as this one must first admire the presentation.” He explained which seemed to be reason enough for her as she went back to her own meal.

Eyeing the plate before him once more Tsukiyama speared the meat with his fork and lifted it to his lips. There had been something odd about the scent that rose from this particular plate and it lingered still as the morsel came nearer and nearer to his mouth. Why did his mouth water at the sight of this particular dish?

Past the barrier of his lips as they closed over the polished surface of the fork to drag the bite off and into his mouth the answer became clear and it took every scrap of his willpower to keep from letting his eyes roll back into his head and groan as the flavors exploded inside his mouth.

 _ **Human!** This was **Human flesh!**_ _Cooked and seasoned as if it were steak but this was far from some fattened cow. It tasted like food! Real, divine, delicious food! It didn't taste like shi, like he expected it to. A small sound of delight escaped him anyway and his date chuckled.“I see you’ve stopped admiring it and finally tried it. Good isn’t it?”_

“Good simply does not do such a marvelous, culinary experience justice….” He breathed while eagerly taking another bite and shuddering. Tres Bien! Yes that taste! Masked and cooked to fool the human tongue with salt and pepper but this was no mere cow’s lung which would have turned to ash upon his tongue! The chef had cooked it to perfection and for the first time in his life, he was eating amongst humans without the fear of discovery and needing to empty his stomach in the bathroom after. If he had to hazard a guess this organ belonged to a deliciously young woman.

A sudden, powerful and gluttonous urge nearly overtook him as he began to eat faster than he had intended. Savoring the food was practically forgotten in favor of simply eating. Bite after bite was consumed with no one the wiser to the beast that lurked amongst them.

_‘I am feasting on one of their own WITH one of their own, and they are none the wiser! This is truly comical!’_

He had always dreamed of enhancing his dining experience in a similar fashion as humans. He watched the way they cooed and fawned over their fancy dishes and exclaimed over the subtle hints of this flavor or that spice and longed to taste them upon his own tongue and here he was, getting to experience that and the added thrill of doing it with them!

He watched his date continue to eat utterly oblivious and a manic glee overtook him. The fool was eating human and she didn’t even know! What would Julie taste like cooked, he wondered? He’d been imagining her taste raw since they had been going out. Sweet and full, heavy like the cloying scent of a bouquet of lilies but now he wondered…would it change to something more robust and savory if cooked? Spicy even? Squeezing his legs together under the table he took a deep breath to calm himself as he chewed, masking his fantasies as he enjoyed the texture and flavor of his dinner.

Normally Tsukiyama did not indulge in dates unless it was to woo a particularly divine piece of prey into his hands or to keep up appearances. This time had been a bit of both since a foreigner could easily disappear and the Doves needed to see him being human after all.

The restaurant choice had been random off of a list of many that were up and coming but had yet to be tried. Now? Oh this one was going to be a repeat favorite. A restaurant with a chef that served human to humans? How truly divine!

“Ahhh that was delicious…” Julie sighed laying her silverware daintily across her now clean plate and dabbing at her mouth delicately “and it looks like you must have thought so too! You’ve nearly cleared your plate too!” She exclaimed brightly.

“I suppose I did.” He chuckled slightly not even having to feign embarrassment at her comment. Between his enjoyment of the food and his wandering mind all but the vegetables had vanished and those he was hesitant to consume. If he did he knew what would come next and vomiting up such delightful morsels into a toilet would be a crime.

“Not a fan of vegetables Tsukiyama?” She asked.

He was saved from having to explain himself as the waiter arrived to collect the dirty plates. “Can we interest you in desserts? We have a wonderful Crème Brule?” He offered.

Julie looked over to Tsukiyama hopefully and was about to say yes, but he was ready to end the night. He’d had a lovely evening and didn’t wish to ruin it by extending it further. “Thank you but I believe we will have to pass on that offer.” He replied as Julie pouted and the waiter bowed and left with the dirty dishes.

“You didn’t have to turn down dessert so quickly….” Julie mumbled swirling her drink around as she regarded him over the top of it, pouting.

“I simply wished to continue our evening elsewhere dearest,” reaching to capture her hand he smiled disarmingly at her “‘for the night is young and so are we?’ Is that not the saying my dear?”

Julie blushed prettily and all grumpiness over missed desert was forgotten as the waiter returned with their check and Tsukiyama whisked it up off the table before his date could even try to peek at it. As the waiter turned to leave he realized he was losing his only chance to ask about the mystery meal as well as the cook behind it, and raw panic shot through him. No! He had to know!

His hand was on the young man’s arm before he even realized it and both waiter and Julie were staring at him. “Ah, please excuse my rudeness good sir, but I must ask you-that is…the ‘Midnight Special’—the chef who made it? Please, I need to know!” He nearly begged. “A name…?”

Flashing Tsukiyama an almost knowing smile the young man looked at his arm silently asking to be released. When he was he replied. “Chef Miyoushi did, sir. She’s the head chef and owner of this establishment.”

“I see…” Tsukiyama murmured as Julie crossed her arms and glared at him from her seat. “May I request to see her and offer our compliments?” he asked eagerly as he walked over to Julie and offered her his hand. “My date and I simply adored the dish tonight and it would not feel right leaving without saying so to the owner!” He proclaimed.

The waiter regarded them both as the woman stood to join her date, clearly less enthused than he was and thought about it. They clearly weren’t going to leave until getting what they, he, wanted and sighed. “One moment.” He said before heading into the kitchen.

* * *

“You’ve got another one, boss,” the waiter who had just returned from Tsukiyama’s table said to Yuri as he brushed past to place the dirty dishes in the washer “table eight. Two of ‘em. The man was asking and he seemed a bit strange,” heading back towards the line to take the next table their plates he stopped by Yuri “even grabbed me to make sure he could ask about the chef that made the special. Could have just asked when he paid the bill….”

She had been expecting that very question as soon as the order had been placed but that didn’t mean she liked handling it during a rush.“Tell them I’m too busy, I’m sure they’ll live,” she snapped but paused when his words sunk in. Setting down her knife she turned to look at him. “Shiki, he grabbed you?”

Shiki nodded and a new wave of anger washed over Yuri. It was one thing to be a little rough with each other in the kitchen. Even the ‘Idiot sandwich’ thing earlier was considered a rite of passage and after it happened she had heard some of the others joking with Harada about their rookie nicknames. A customer laying a hand on her staff or vice versa did not happen, not on her watch. 

“Table eight, yes?” She repeated voice flat and unamused.

“Yes chef.” Shiki replied with a smile on his face as he watched her head for the doors that lead into the dining room. Pushing back his sleeve he looked at his arm where the customer had grabbed him and frowned. There were red, angry hand marks imprinted on his skin. A few of them were already starting to deepen in color and bruise. 

* * *

The clatter of paying customers and low conversation was the charm of the _Suiren_. The ambiance of tinkling wine glasses and attractive evening laughter assisted the mood--many traveled far and wide to Yuri’s proud little restaurant. The orange glow of the lamps bounced off the rustic paint imitating a summer sunset; warm color schemes had always been her favorite despite the fact that she was a winter not a fall.

The aura of the dining floor had always been relaxing and romantic, however walking out of the kitchens she realized today things were not as they should be. Instead of the hum of pleasantries and subtle laughter, distinct loud voices that exceeded the proper etiquette for fine dining carried over everyone else.

Table eight.

So these were the people causing the disturbance, a color blind moron and a screeching harpy? Oh, joy…

She walked purposeful and steady with her fists clenched at her sides. From where she could see, the man in the abhorred violet suit wasn’t the one causing such a ruckus so much as it was the _camilla_ sitting in front of him. Everyone around her kept glancing behind them. _Rude._ All of their eyes screamed it, and she could tell by the grimaces that the candle-lit mood had been spoiled.

“Good evening, I was told you had requested to see me…?” Yuri looked to both the man and woman, sizing up the man who had the balls to pry her from her work. She’d wished it was the female, she wanted to unleash her passive-aggressive furry onto her greatly. 

“Ah Chef Miyoushi,” The man greeted her excitedly and wasted no time grasping her hand. Her nerves spiked and her face flushed as he kissed her flesh. “I simply must bestow a kiss upon the talented hand of the one who has charmed and presented this... _Ce délicieux palais_ _!”_ Sharp eyes hypnotized her from beneath his bangs as he bowed gentlemanly before her. “I consider myself a bit of a gourmet you see, a connoisseur of all things refined and I am constantly in search of new things to amaze me. Your cuisine has certainly done that and more.” He smiled.

The irrupt introduction caught Yuri off guard and she nearly leapt out of her skin at the sudden contact. His grip was smooth cold, a stark contrast to harden skin of her working hands. “E-excuse me, but you are–”

“If it does any more than that Tsukiyama, I am leaving you with the damn bill and nothing else!” The woman at the table snapped getting to her feet in a huff. “Honestly would you do this to if she were a man?!”

A deep rumbling came from the purplette man, “Oh but of course, _mon cheri!”_ The man caught Yuri around the waist, spinning her about as if she were a dancing partner. A rather undignified yelp came from her, and his date squawked. “A true culinary excavator does not stop at such trivial things as gender, when showing his appreciation to an outstanding artist.” He purred tilting his head back at the woman and placing a hand over his heart. He also garnered a number of odd looks and whispers from the other patrons. Yuri’s cheeks burnt. What the ever-loving hell was happening? “Tsukiyama Shuu, _mademoiselle.”_ He finally supplied, turning his grin towards her.

“Y-You…!” His date stammered going red in the face but for another reason. “This was a nice evening until you ruined it,” she hollered, making everyone politely turn their heads away with looks of horror on their faces “we could have just left for the next spot but no. You just HAD to thank the ‘chef’ and suddenly you’re kissing her hand and spinning her around?!” She demanded jabbing an accusatory finger in Yuri’s direction. “I don’t buy that ‘I’d do that with a man too’ garbage Tsukiyama! You’re doing this on purpose, and I am not a fan!” She hissed.

My God, she’s loud… Yuri placed a hand over her right ear and cringed. 

“ _My dearest,”_ Tsukiyama started, quietly, turning a very stern look as he turned to face her. “Such an ugly color you wear...jealousy doesn’t suit you.” 

The red on her face got darker, and her eyes squinted hatefully. Julie’s screeching became louder, but to Yuri, it faded to white noise in the background.

What was happening!? The couple’s display was despicable, the _Suiren_ wasn't small by any means, but their voices certainly carried and filled the room easily. Regardless, the look in the man’s eyes as they slid over her, reminded her of a seductive viper. They captivated her... Yuri couldn't remember the last time she encountered such a look, and her heart that raced wouldn't still even after looking away. 

He’d touched her. Spun her around like in those corny old movies and it terrified her. The involuntary shaking her hands did was both unsettling and infuriating things to her all at once. Yuri prided herself with her ability to avoid physical contact as much as she could, and this _man_ , broke every barrier—disregarded her personal bubble, without a care or any consideration.

Still, a part of her couldn’t deny that there was something in her that... _liked it_. Yuri’s insides had turned and for a time she thought it was sickness, not flattery. She could still feel where he’d kissed and the more the bitch screeched the happier she was. What was wrong with her?!

She blinked, coming to her senses. No, this was what important; this unearthly scene of chaos that she had to take care of.

The scene before her was unacceptable in her establishment, scaring her customers! This certainly would make it to _Yelp!_ And if she saw her ratings go down, Yuri would skin them both alive. The jewel tone eyes that burned like fire slowly lapped at her skin before locking onto the shrieking harpy.

Ok, maybe she'd just keep his eyes.

“Julie... _dear._ Have I not shown you all the courtesies any respectable man would? The dinner dates, the shopping sprees, _extravagant suites_ . I must say, I’ve shown more promise in my role in this arrangement than perhaps, _you_ , one might say. So I do not appreciate this villainous picture you are trying to paint me.” His voice was sweet and melodious, and dangerously low: the bite of his undertone had venom. And like so, Yuri found his movements hypnotic, graceful, like water. She could see why the woman wanted to sink her claws into this one, she'd put an iron grip on him as well if he was hers.

“And I do not appreciate you turning the lovely ambiance of this place stagnant.” He rounded to her, capturing her powdered chin in his fingers, “now if you be a dear and bring the car around that would lovely, _my sweet._ I believe we have outstayed our welcome, unfortunately…” Tsukiyama's teeth grated.

The look on the blond screeching harpy turned even worse, if that was even possible. Julie never got treated this way. _Ever!_

Julie always got what she wanted, and she couldn't seriously be thrown into the background like yesterday news by some dirty, sweaty kitchen worker! This couldn't _possibly_ be happening. The whole date had been utterly destroyed and mockingly thrown in her face. All because of that _rat!_ Julie had never been more humiliated in her life, let alone treated like an unwanted side-dish. Any man would _die_ to wait upon her, and here she was being chastised like an ignorant child by the rich arm candy she acquired during her month long vacation.

He was supposed to be doting on _her!_

“S-Shuu-” Julie stuttered, “you can’t mean that! I mean, surely by now you feel more than just an _arrangement_ between us.” She laid on her sweet voice thickly, placing her arms on his shoulders, trying to sweet-talk him all the while trying (and failing) to give a sneaky smug look towards Yuri.

Ugh, yuck.

Yuri looked between the too and wasn't believing what she saw, she wanted to gag. this was getting to be too much and the scene playing out in front of all of her and she felt so sorry for the poor people present. She needed to end this before she started getting complaints or security involved. For not having the dispute resolved peacefully would definitely leave a bad reputation on her.

Obviously it was more of the woman’s sickening display and her banshee-like voice that caused most of the discomfort, and she could tell that this ‘Shuu’ was trying to minimize the damage, but it was apparent it wasn’t enough to get her out. 

“Excuse me, sir, madam—I greatly appreciate your patronage; but this is a respectable establishment, and any more of a scene and I will have to ask for an escort to walk you to the door.” She cut into the dispute with an even, professional voice, showing that she could take control of any situation, and that she had her guests’ interests at heart.

Inside though, she wanted to scream louder than the harpy. What the hell do these people think they were? _The Jerry Springer Show_ ?! With all their glamour and flash, you would think they’d have more class than this. _Ugh these people make me sick_ , she thought, biting her tongue to keep from speaking out.

Tsukiyama his lips thinned. “Yes, but of course, _ma dame._ We will leave you and your company peace. Please accept my deepest apologies for our rude disruptions…” Tsukiyama bowed, offering his hand before him. “May I shake your hand once more, _mademoiselle?’_

Yuri hesitated, she looked over to the woman behind him and saw her face bright red with fury and puffy eyes. She thought against encouraging the eager well-to-do, but if anything, the desire to upset his plus-one was reason enough to place her calloused, worked hands into his soft, smooth ones and blushed when they touched his lips. Yuri tried to lie to herself that she hoped he hadn’t asked for more contact, that he hadn’t tried to flirt with her, in front of everyone. That she didn’t want it—couldn’t want it...but she did. It’d been a measly five minutes and this...this rich, suck-up SOB already had her pining? _What the actual hell?!_

“Thank you for coming, I hope you have enjoyed your time here, and that everything was to your liking.” She attempted to retract her hand, but the obnoxious dandy man held tightly as he stood up tall once more. _What now?!_

Tsukiyama smiled brightly and covered her hand with both of his, and that was when she felt something slide under her fingers. “Everything was nothing short of divine, I pray that I will not be turned away at the door upon my next visit, yes? _Au revoir_ _ma douce.”_

Yuri only vaguely remembered nodding and watching the man gather his fussing attachment, who continued to glare daggers in her direction as she was guided out the glass doors; closing quietly behind them (if it wasn't for the man, she was more than certain the woman would have slammed them as hard as she could.)

Oh God.... _oh God!_ Everyone was still staring at her and the silence was choking her, everyone had stopped eating to watch the disgraceful (and alarming) event unfold in front of her. Her face burned with anger and embarrassment. At that moment Yuri swore that if she received one, _even one_ bad review, she would make good on her promise to herself.

The chef looked down in her hand saw it was white card with elegant scribbling, she turned it around to find a name and number. _‘Call any time, Shuu Tsukiyama.’_

_When did he have time to write this!?_

Yuri scoffed, did he really believe she would give his obnoxious ass the time of day?! She chuckled, _yeah right._ She walked back to the kitchens placing the card into her apron pockets hoping to forget about it, she would throw it away later.

Later that evening the joys of well cooked meal in a low-lit dining room was relished. Tsukiyama, though starved for the blessed silence that came with fine dining, found himself still perturbed.

Julie tasted nothing like how he wanted her to...


	2. Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsukiyama and Yuri's third encounter...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So I went through and did some major proof reading and hoping it looks good (it looked a lot better before I did it, believe me. xD) But this one is just sort of easing into the deprived mind of our Mr. MM and I'm not sorry. Haha 
> 
> Some times when I'm writing Tsukiyama I think I'm being too ooc with his ridiculousness, and then I realize, he never realizes how extra he is so it must be me just getting secondhand embarrassment from just writing his stupidity and know that it really is him to a T. lol
> 
> But I pose a question: There have been a lot of contradictory things in the series itself and I've been battling with that. They're small minor details, but nonetheless I feel to be important. Like for instance, normal things can't cut a ghoul, but a tea cup was able to cut kaneki?! So my thoughts of course go immediately to: If in a fit of desire, Tsukiyama gets scratched or bit, does he bleed?
> 
> Also one more thing, I really try to write my stories as best I can, and everyone has their own style, but I wanted your opinion, when it comes to thoughts, do you guys like using apostrophes as a way of discerning thoughts? Let me know. :)

It had been a week. _A week!_

Five days filled with nothing but refusals and disappointments, and it rather set Tsukiyama on edge. No… perhaps that wasn’t the right word for this feeling, for the frustration that ran through him felt more like an indescribable outrage. Every day he returned empty-handed, save for the sweet sound of her voice echoing out the backdoors, it seemed enough to make have him crawling back, like a dog begging for more after it was given scraps; it seemed even now he had no shame. Ever since the first meeting with his alluring flower, the charming Ms. Miyoushi, her underlings would decline him instead when he called upon her. Sometimes they would even downright turn him away after his meal, graciously informing him of his invitation was declined for the sake of her duty to her customers (and the sake of her sanity he heard a man mutter once.) The continued line being fed to him gave him a bitter sting to both his pride and patience. 

Turning on his computer, the saved tab with the title of a restaurant was still there. Shuu never took it down and it had become a permanent resident on his browser. The design was so simple and plain, he’d scoffed, but not for the first time at seeing it; it needed a lovely picture of her! As grand as simplicity could be and as easy on the eyes it was, it held no candle to her. Tsukiyama glanced over their menu for the thousandth time, the limited background info they provided irked him. It detailed their staff and history, stupid unimportant rubbish like the date of construction, and things not specifically about _her_. It, by far, wasn't enough. Tsukiyama found himself pouring over every last detail the ghoul hoped would give him more insight into the owner.

“Ah-ha!” Bingo now here was something! Wide-eyed, he scrolled down closer to the small footnote listed under the outside picture of the building. “ _Tokyo Branch Establishment Owner: Yuri Miyoushi”_ He read out loud. “Yuri…” That was when he first found her full name and marveled how it perfectly rolled off his tongue, it beguiled him that there was very little written about her; her degree in culinary arts and her time in the UK was far too little. _It wasn’t enough!_ To top it all off, she _still_ hadn’t called him...

Tsukiyama gritted his teeth while carding his fingers through his hair, why was she turning him away? From the very moment the ghoul smelt her before their eyes even met, he knew she was the same human he spared in that dark alley three months ago. It was at the restaurant he discovered she was someone far more special and rarer than even he could have known. _A cannibal!_

Oh, the mere thought of her made both his mouth water and his heart jump. What would it be like to taste flesh like hers...? A human that indulged in eating one’s kind, here in Tokyo? _What were the odds?!_

Thinking of her blood running down his throat as he bit into her shoulder...her supple breast—It would be ecstasy, he was sure! But oh, how they were so much alike. On the same coin, how would it feel to share recipes, go on walks, find similar interests and traits, laugh about odd habits human’s had over a nice dinner... 

The conflict inside him was a raging storm that fought against his very nature; the prospect of what could be versus the incessant presence of his hunger. Now, he reasoned with himself, he could keep the ghoul in him at bay, deny himself the taste of a lifetime for the sake of allowing a _true_ diamond to exist, couldn’t he? Surely he could if he truly wanted…?

But _did_ he?

_‘Oh lord…’_

Thoughts of eating her wouldn't stop. He couldn’t stop himself fantasizing slipping her small, thin digits into his mouth—savoring them, tasting the oils on her fingers—then quickly severing them. Imagining the gratifying and spine-tingling sound of her bones crunching and snapping, gulping down her blood as he chewed the tender muscles. A long arousing moan drifted into the silence of Tsukiyama’s lavish bedroom as fingers ghosted over his lips, he could feel the front of his pants tighten as the fantasy made him hard.

_‘Oh yes, ma petite belle fleur…’_

The glow of his computer served to be the only light-emitting into the darkness... _Suiren._ The name of her workplace that he had been fixated on ever since. His sweet treasure, the one who still eluded him resided there. It was her glorious castle and she reigned supreme; a majestic queen ruling over her land. It was her world in that building, and she commanded with an iron fist; he shivered as his hand drifted lower purposely.

Every time he was there, Tsukiyama relished in the sounds of her shouting, barking orders at her cooks and staff that only his acute hearing could pick up. The things her voice did to him, left him to suffer in an uncomfortable state each time. If she only knew how she captivated him, how he _yearned_ for her! It was just as if the days of his dear Kaneki were on repeat—replaying in his mind with an uncanny comparison. Tsukiyama licked his lips, but unlike his _dear_ Kaneki, this one...this onewas far greater, even sweeter than anything he could have hoped for from the one-eyed ghoul.

Compared to her, he was like spoiled rotten meat

As crazy as that sounded, it felt truer each time he relived the moment he first took in her scent. The question once more entered his mind, could he live in this world without such a beauty?

Could he live for one moment, only to be plagued for a lifetime trying to relive her taste, her voice, _her eyes_ within his mind? That reality felt more of a curse to him, despite the blessed euphoria it would be to consume her.

 _“Blast you!”_ Tsukiyama swore at the bright screen, as he grew harder. His hand gripping tightly over his clothed member, Yuri’s face wasn’t on it, only the clean white layout of the menu. Regardless of the pictureless screen, he found himself highly aroused all the same, just by remembering. Remembering her lovely petite form, how he would sometimes hear her voice drift into the dining floor and how the fire in her eyes heated his soul with a glare of contempt. Tsukiyama’s voice hitched as he released his now matured cock from the confinement of his slacks and with a hiss, he began to touch himself.

“Mmmm...Yuri _…” ‘Yes, just like that, Yuri!’_

Tsukiyama chuckled. He was a sick, despicable man, but a man nonetheless. She said he was beautiful…when she said those words, something in him became unhinged; it was frightening and yet it made him feel something he could not name.

“Hhhn... _oh, mon amour~!”_ Tsukiyama moaned as his climaxed approached, moving faster with elongated pumps. Minutes passed with sounds of labored breathing and deep moans filling the room. A sensual sigh was the warning before a long growl resonated throughout his body. The enamored ghoul came onto the furnished computer desk. The white remanence ran down his hand that was now trembling…he felt unsatisfied, he needed more--he needed _her._

Not caring about the mess, he slouched in his chair and breathed heavily. The lingering high slowly left his body and still, he thought of her. Wishing he’d used his efforts to pleasure her instead. He longed to see what she looked like as she rose to her pinnacle of ecstasy; only to watch his flower quiver and crash into a fit of exhaustion. He wanted to see her eyes as he made her come again. Again and again, he would assault her with his unquenchable desire.

 _‘My_ Moon-eyes _—no,_ _Miyoushi._ _Yuri Miyoushi…_ ’ “We will meet again, my flower, and soon.” _‘I promise.’_

There was a knock that alerted Tsukiyama as he straightened himself and zipped his pants up, forgoing the mess dripping off the desk. Cleaning up wouldn't change anything, the smell alone would be clear to his devious actions.

“Master Shuu, dinner is ready.”

Shuu looked up at the door revealing Kanae, his dear cousin. “Ah, Kanae! Yes, I’ll be right down.” The young boy bowed and exited the room, closing the door softly. 

Taking one last glance at the computer, the ghoul sighed hopelessly. He wanted his little human, and Tsukiyama always got what he wanted…

____________

Yuri’s morning started with a glaring sun pouring over her. Blinking her eyes open, blurry at first, the digital clock on the nightstand slowly came into focus as she realized her jaw ached from the pressure of her teeth gnashing in her sleep. she didn't stop the cursing under her breath even after she threw the sheets off. It’d had been the repeating dream again, and though not all the details were there, the color of his eyes was still vivid enough to tell her it’d had been _that_ dream. She didn’t have them every night, but enough to feel as though she’d been in a revolving movie that just kept getting rewound. The dream of being spared by a beautiful, red-eyed ghoul...

Grunting the displeasure of moving her dead weighted body, she made her way into the kitchen after visiting the bathroom and reached for the milk, next to where she stored a white boxed cooler. By the normal eye, a naive visitor would suspect only perhaps fishing supplies, or some other innocent nature; blind to the grotesque truth that it held fresh organs and packets of blood kept cold in ice.

Needless to say, she didn’t entertain. Ever.

Slamming the fridge door shut with her foot, she poured a bowl of cereal while looking at her watch. 7:30 am, she had an hour before she had to be at the restaurant to open up. Yuri sighed, the taste of artificial flavoring and wood shavings never appealed to her, but it was days like these where she just didn’t care. Yuri stared blankly at the soggy ‘ _Wheat Puffs’_ while chewing like a lifeless automaton, she was too lazy to make anything really substantial. Glancing past the bowl, she recognized the thin white card with beautiful handwriting scrawled across it.

Oh yea, that happened…she wanted to forget the events of the man who gave her that card, but Yuri wondered more as to why she hadn’t thrown it away like she’d plan to. Reaching out for it, she traced the refined edges with her thumb flipping it over this way and that, realizing it wasn’t so intimidating as it first was. That now- now it was just a silly waste of ink and paper...

Honestly, she huffed. If a man so interested in her could make all of this so complicated so quickly, it made more sense that she’d just kill the poor fool. It seemed like the most logical way to deal with such a nuisance. “Tsukiyama Shuu…” she said, her voice scratched and popped due to exhaustion, the name matched the pompous, arrogant man; it looked flamboyant and dramatic just like him. It’d be a lie to say that this was the first time she’d picked up the number and stared at it, liked it sprout lips and taunt her. Yuri contemplated shredding it, but she’d only to place it back down again. She had no idea what kept her from disposing of the useless thing, but it played on her mind more than she cared to admit. Thoughts of ringing it, if just to finally feed the curiosity inside of her once and for all. That tiny inkling didn’t survive long before it was shot down as fast as it had formed. _‘No. Do not open that door, Yuri.’_ She chastised herself, _‘you don’t give people like him an inch.’_

Dropping the spoon into the bowl with a resounding _clank_ , Yuri walked it to the sink and washed the remnants out. She didn’t have the time for such meaningless things, just like before, he’ll come again and she’d refuse. It was that simple, and so clear cut... it was all that would become of it. The call the authorities this time if need be, he’ll be barred. Yes, that’s what she’d do; there's no point in letting this continue anymore.

That’s how she knew she should feel, but it wasn’t...

Feeling like she was floating, Yuri felt dread thinking of no longer seeing the man waiting for her… it was a selfish desire and she knew that. Especially knowing she’d deny him each time, but still, it was… nice. It was nice to see someone, or perhaps it was only the thought of a man waiting for her. She’d never had that before. Maybe that was the root of it all, the dark seed that started growing inside of her, making her yearn for something so forbidden. The whisper inside told her to kill it. Kill it before it sprouted into something beyond her control; she agreed with the silent voice.

The ticking from her kitchen clock grounded Yuri, reminding her of what _did_ matter; of all the things that needed her attention. Time waited on no man and certainly didn’t wait on owners that pondered growing heartstrings. Today it was one of the rare days where instead of working the closing shift, she’d be opening and preparing along with Harada to train him. Normally she’d assign one of her more experienced workers to do this, but she didn’t and instead took the task up herself; everyone was shocked and for the life of her, she couldn’t explain why.

A part of her said it was the weird funk that that horrid clown had put her in, and caused many of her chefs’ to side-eye her and whisper, another side generally wanted Harada to succeed and better himself. He had promise as well as his shining moments, she saw who he might one day be, past all the stuttering and fumbles she saw a proud master of his art. It didn’t help that he had a kindness that unbeknownst to everyone else, would somewhat butter her up inside; but that was a side that couldn’t see the light of day. What would happen if people began thinking she had a heart, and creating favoritism would only stir the pot even more.

So, on an early Monday morning, a shift _no one_ wanted, she got dressed and left; leaving behind a space that its only purpose was to trap the endless thoughts to fester inside.

_____________

A restless sigh escaped her lips as she knew a headache was forming. Yuri should have expected as much, and yet the tossing feeling of disappointment couldn’t be ignored. Harada’s face, red with embarrassment just stood there bowing past his waist.

Yuri arrived at the time when the restaurant should have been prepped and ready to open. She assigned the task to him two days ago when she felt it was time to test his capabilities working solo in the morning hours and challenge the boy, but evidently, it was still too much responsibility.

“Harada, why do you think I left this to you? I expected more, I’ve let others go for lesser mistakes.”

“Yes, Head Chef!” He shouted as he bowed low. He flinched when he heard the sound of her letting out another breath, in all honesty, he had no idea why she kept him on still. He was blessed just to still be standing there.

Yuri massaged her eyes, _‘that isn’t the answer I wanted, you idiot.’_ “Ok look, you are the only one back here who cannot keep with the workload, Harada. If you can’t improve, I’m firing you. That’s all there is to it.” She couldn’t let rumors of her placing favorites spread, it would only cause conflict among the staff, though despite that– “so I’m going to help you and I swear if you breathe a word to anyone, you will not only be fired but you won’t have a recommendation to your name.”

He had a good heart, she knew, and he worked hard. She picked up on that right from the beginning, but that doesn’t produce results. Kindness didn’t serve customers' quality cuisine. Still, he had potential, and Yuri wanted him to harness it, mold it into a skill that shaped him into an excellent chef. 

Why did she hire him? Why did she give this chaotic mess the time of day? Yuri liked to say she saw greatness in all the people she employed, granted some disappointed her, (like the girl.) Harada had a keen eye for spices, he could tell when the flavor overtook the dish or how to remove the bland that resembled cardboard. He could pick up on such subtle things, that it was remarkable, but when there was so much at once, his mind jumbled causing a racing motion of giving the right solution to the wrong problem.

“I’m sorry Head Chef…”

“That’s not what’s important right now, Harada. I’m going to help you. You have promise, and I want you to see that.” She was lucky it was only them, the others would have been shocked and maybe even started whispering, had they heard what she said.

“Head Chef, but… why?” His eyes were wide, and Yuri could tell her sudden change confused him.

With hands-on her hips and in all seriousness, she told him firmly, “Because, you remind me of myself when I was first starting out and if it wasn’t for the respectful attitude and the improvements you _have_ been making I wouldn’t be saying this...and,” her voice went soft like she was recalling a distant memory, “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the one who believed in me when no one did.”

________________

“Hello, welcome to _Suiren_ , allow me to take your order.”

“Ah, yes, I will have the same as usual. The ‘ _Midnight Special’_ please.”

The waiter bowed, and left to place the order, “Oh, but please, would you do me a great favor? Would the wonderful Ms. Miyoushi grace my table, if she could?”

“Sir-” The well-groomed maître d hesitated, he knew the regular that persistently asked for the owner, it was like clockwork, and many of the workers would recognize him before he was even greeted at the door. They started to whisper that ‘ _Lucifer’s Daughter’_ had a stalkerand there were more worried about her than the few that took pity on the man himself. He was inching away and glanced at another waiter to take his place to hightail it to the back, but the man acted like he didn’t see him and headed to another table to refill glasses.

Tsukiyama avoided snapping at the annoying tick of a man, seeing that he was trying to refuse him. No, he had to remain calm, be cool Shuu… “Please, I would greatly appreciate your assistance in this.” He said, “it won’t be but a moment, tell her.” He forced his smile to remain pleasant, luckily his hands were hidden under the tablecloth. The napkin from his lap was beginning to tear.

“Y-yes, of course.” The man sighed, “I will inform her of your request, sir. Please, just a moment.”

“Oh, and a bottle of your finest wine if you please.”

Bowing once more, with the feeling of uneasiness increasing, the waiter finally scampered off; eager to take his leave of the insufferable man.

There were a good five minutes before Tsukiyama heard a few off-color words tickle the edge of his ear, with his heightened hearing he caught her voice in the back. ‘ _Oh, my dear… that mouth of yours, shall I correct it for you?’_ He thought fondly, the fantasies were already forming. ‘ _I could bend you over my knee, have your supple flesh smarting from my hand.’_ He chuckled, laying his head on his palm, tracing his lips with his finger, the revisiting thoughts were quite inappropriate for the occasion; the effect they had him were sweet and pleasurable yet painfully unfulfilled -- a torment he welcomed.

A biting voice brought him back from his reverie, and he could only smile wider as he looked up at bright, silver eyes. She came!

“May I help you, sir?”

“You honor my table at last, _mon belle fleur!_ I cannot tell you what it means to me to be graced by your presence once more!” He salivated at her scent, how he could contain himself, he had no idea; but she was a vision and well worth the wait.

Yuri could smell the expensive cologne on the vibrant man. A kaleidoscope on display, she thought, always changing. Colors, shapes… twisting and turning but his glow never dimmed, in fact, night after night with each visit it seemed to only get brighter. Each time she was informed of his nagging, she’d look. Hidden from view, peeking out from the kitchen doors, she’d steal secret glances. Each time, she’d tell herself to leave it be, a man that just happened to imprint a moment upon her life and was nothing but a footnote; a second that would drown in an ocean of time and would eventually be forgotten. She _would_ forget him.

“Sir-“

“Please, call me Shuu.”

“ _Mr. Tsukiyama_ if you insist on dining here, fine, so be it; but do not presume that I have nothing better to do but to entertain _you,_ ” Yuri growled, her voice was low and for his ears only causing an unknown shiver to run straight through him. “Eat your food and leave!”

“Oh dear, and what if I wish for you to humor me and have a delightful dinner instead?” He took her hand and kissed it, “say tomorrow night at 8 o'clock?”

The look in his eyes--both bright and dark--his amethyst eyes shined, and just on the edge, an ominous shadow gleamed too. Shouldn’t the question of whether he was a threat enter her mind? Shouldn’t she be concerned that it didn’t? Or that they awoke a primal instinct inside of her that caused the gooseflesh and heat to rise in her.

_This wasn’t her._

She didn’t allow any of that to show through though, only the calm, collected (if only just) stare with lips pressed together tightly proving just how annoying the man had become. Was it him though, was it _really_? Or perhaps it stemmed from something else entirely... the feeling inside that had been festering since _that_ night could be a good start. Either way, Yuri felt completely fine with placing all the blame on him. “I don’t think so.” She folded her arms “besides, I of course work the evenings.” A brow rose, “I run a restaurant, remember?” 

Tsukiyama chuckled, a rueful smile appeared lopsided. “One night couldn’t be sacrificed?”

“No.”

“No?” His smile faltered and lips became pursed, both staring down the other in a standoff, and both wanting what the other did not. Tsukiyama toyed with the pressed napkin to his side with his right hand; his long fingers fiddled with the edges as he kept his intense gaze on her licking his lips enticingly. “I don’t see the problem, surely your staff-”

“I said no. Regardless of a reason or not, it should be enough that I am refusing.”

Anger bubbled up inside him and caught himself just before words came spewing out that he knew he’d come to regret. _Pourquoi tu exaspérés…_ Ok, step back, Shuu. No need to lose your cool…

It was clear he was losing this battle and to continue pushing back would most likely bode unfavorably for him. _Very well, I will concede. For now..._

I’d not do to have her fight against him so vehemently. Tsukiyama wanted her to come to him willingly-- wantingly. Anything that made her yearn for him was good enough, as for the emotions in her? He wanted them to burn, become hot in her blood, till she writhed in a wanton fashion that made him crave her. The loathing he saw, that too burned and it was flavorful. Desire though… desire fed the soul. Then she would be ready...that would be the moment he’d have her for his meal.

All he had to do, _was wait._

“...Yes, y-you are correct. Please forgive my rudeness… I meant no offense.” He sighed as he straightened his maroon tie and corrected his posture. “Still, I did order your finest wine, perhaps you would at least give me the pleasure of sampling it with you?” He put on the biggest display of puppy dog eyes he could muster, even humming in a sweet begging tone. If charming didn’t work, he thought, if _this_ didn’t work, he wondered if she kicked cats too?

Just then, the man serving the ghoul appeared with a trolley carrying a chilled bottle of red wine. Taking the bottle out and presenting it to the pleased ghoul, he began pouring at the node Tsukiyama gave. “And pour a glass for _mademoiselle_ Miyoushi too, if you will.” He instructed, noting the incredulous scowl Yuri gave him.

“Wha- I didn’t agree to even that much!” She looked at her employee and shook her head at him, signaling him to refuse the customer. 

The boy looked between the two of them becoming awkwardly afraid. Like he was a child stuck choosing sides between his parents. “I… uh…” Nervously glanced at his boss, Yuri, to the now pleasantly grinning man, who slowly flashed the side of a very large bill from the side of his pocket, away from Yuri. 

The server boy, now stuck between a rock and hard place gulped as Tsukiyama narrowed his eyes, and slithered out an even bigger bill for only his eyes. “Well, good sir? Don’t keep the lady waiting!” The boy bowed again, silently begging for forgiveness for his betrayal as he poured his boss a glass of wine.

“Yes sir, my apologies sir.”

“You traitor!” She whispered hatefully.

“I’m sorry, Head Chef.” Her employee muttered, hating himself instantly. Though he couldn’t deny the patron’s generous bribe. He _was_ such a traitor… but it’s only wine, right? What harm could that possibly bring?

As he gathered the rolling cart the ‘traitor’ felt the pocket of his waist apron dip as he walked away. Placing his hand inside, he felt two crisp bills inside. Scurrying away from the table, the waiter continued to comfort himself; indeed, it was only a conversation over a drink. He did nothing wrong, and earn a generous tip in the process.

She’d forgive him, right?

“So, you plan to turn my staff against me too then? Just to get what you want?” Yuri sat in the seat in front of him reaching for the alcohol and swirled it, her eyes slithered over him in a predatorial glare as she stared him down with lidded eyes while taking a nice sized sip. “That was low.”

“Heh, are we not all creatures of opportunity?” Tsukiyama’s finger glossed over the rim of his glass making it sing a pretty note, creating a sultry motion that appealed to his character. He hoped it’d coax his prey into a more relaxing, sensual atmosphere and help to calm her the hell down.

Ironically, they both looked like two cobras ready to strike. 

“The man saw what he wanted, and he took it. You can hardly fault him for that, can you?” Eyeing her provocatively, as if the bumbling boy was no longer the conversation subject. “But since you _are_ here, I've been dying to get to know you...personally… I'd love if you told me about yourself?” The slow words that flowed off his tongue were like crushed velvet, and he saw the soft tinge of added color upon her cheeks. “You would not leave a parched man thirsty would you?” He asked, sweetly.

“Not only that, but I’d leave him to starve as well.” Yuri droned, boredly.

Ok, so perhaps she did kick cats…

“My, such a cruel streak in you! What would your mother say to such harsh behavior?!” His hand over his heart, feigning a fatal wound.

“Nothing. She’s dead.”

“...Oh…”

Well damn… that didn’t play out at all how he wanted it to. How did one recover from that? “I-I see, please accept my sincerest apologies! I meant no offense…” sweat was pouring down his neck. It was one screw up after another and like he was on a landslide, “I… I too have lost a mother. I was very young when she passed.” Tsukiyama started. “Still, I have many fond memories of her. Papa-”

The pleasantries faded with the conversation, the sounds of their surroundings filled the gap and left the two awkwardly quiet. What deceptions would he have to weave for her to unravel her trust? Her impenetrable shell seemed to be without flaw, and no way to worm his way through.

The look she gave him was of unamused and uncaring, which cause him to drift off. He had nothing else to combat with, he nothing about her other than the secret she had no idea he knew. The thick layer silence created a wall -- further protecting her, and once more Tsukiyama had no clue how to break it. Trying to regain the field once more, he cleared his throat. “And you-“

“Is this a game to you?” She sipped her wine, staring him down from across the table. “If so, you’re a weak player.”

Shellshocked the air completely left his lungs, fear began to creep yo his spine and hoped she didn’t somehow know. “E-Excuse me?” Tsukiyama stuttered, shocked to have been called out.

“Do you honestly think I’m blind to the stupid lines you’re throwing out and expect me to take your bait? Please, I’ve done better.” Yuri rolled her eyes, “I couldn’t give two cares about my, or your mother.”

 _How dare she!_ How was he to claw his way into this woman’s heart if the spikes of her disposition kept shooting him down at every turn? What was the woman’s damage?! “Wha- why I have no idea-”

“I’m done. When you’ve finished eating, leave.”

“W-Wait!” At every turn, the ground was falling beneath his feet and this woman spoke as if she knew the rules Tsukiyama's own charade. The whole affair had turned into a one-sided interrogation—and not of her, but himself! The facade that he’d created over the years worked nearly every time, and if ever there was a chance that it did not, his prowess in seduction was certainly enough to get him what he wanted. For him to be picked apart now like an old ratted doll, was not only offensive to his pride, but unheard of!

Unfortunately — or rather perhaps _very_ fortunate, if Yuri’s face was any indication, seeing one of her cooks come out to inform her she was needed caused a sigh of relief to escape. It wasn’t lost on her that it was _his_ order that she was called out for. Tsukiyama asked for the same thing every time he dined there. As she stood up, she polished off the rest of her drink and gave her glass to her waiter. The company may have been unpleasant but she always enjoyed a nice chianti.

“I’d say tip my workers but you already gave far too much to my traitor. I’ll not take any more of your filthy money than is needed.” Snuffing Tsukiyama as she turned to walk away, she ignores the aghast look he shot. She was a professional after all, she had class and so did her insults. It was too bad he was unbearably annoying, Yuri thought. She might have enjoyed him.

“Miss Miyoushi, wait!” His voice carried to her, but her back never turned. “I see that you’re reluctant, but giving me at least a chance, would that not be at least beneficial?”

Turning a deaf ear to him she kept walking, making a beeline for the backroom doors.

“ _I said wait!”_ He hissed, the grip on her arm felt like iron and the sharp glare of his violet eyes were borderline glowing in a near maroon undertone. The room felt infinitely smaller in that single moment and the air was sucked out of her. Yuri could feel the prickle of her hair on her neck stand up. Their eyes locked and she couldn’t decide if it was the incredible proximity and the attractive scent of his cologne that sunk her heart into her stomach and shot electricity down to her core, or if it was the strange sensation of kinship that danger and death were like a second skin to him _._

Just as it was for her.

Her words became lost as her throat constricted. The persistent stranger who manhandled her roughly somehow lit a candle in a very dark–very _secret_ –corner of her soul; a place she kept tucked away. This, and among one other reason, was why she refused physical contact. Her senses were hyper-aware from the years of hunting and killing, so it made sense that her number one trigger to igniting her libido was the assertion of dominance, and by God had it been way too long… “D-Don't touch me!” She hadn’t meant to stutter and she prayed it went unnoticed

Staff was already turning their heads, and one Tsukiyama was confident she was heading to the phone in the back. “One night, _Yuri._ Just one is all I ask, and if still, you refute me, then...then I shan't trouble you any further.” The desperation was heavy in voice and he all but dared to press her as close as he could to him.

The roll of his tongue and with the well trained French twist to it fueled her heart to pump faster. The spicy scent of his cologne was also apparent to her now, and the combination of that, and his voice, was way too enticing to her and knew her body was already beginning to betray her. Yuri tried one more time to take her arm back, but somehow he knew… he just _knew_ that this was hooking her. His eyes narrowed and it made her insides twist and her breathing changed. 

She had to refuse. There’s no telling what would happen between them if left alone, and the thought terrified her. The seconds felt like they were ticking in her ears and that time was passing slower, but she knew that if she didn’t make her decision it’d be done for her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she took note of the approaching waiter ready to physically remove the man from her; and if that happened, if even the smallest part of her wished for it, she’d still never see him again. “One.” Pointing her finger straight at him, “one evening and that's it, clear?”

His eyes widened. The chance of being barred from this place was not a thought Tsukiyama liked to entertain, but if that was what it took to get her to agree, then so be it. “Crystal. Friday at 8 pm then?” He hummed delightfully.

For the thousandth time, she thought, oh God, what had she just allowed, and how was she going to close that door again once it opened? It was already peaking and she was afraid of what was going to come out. 


	3. Ripples Turn into Waves

“Another one was found dead near the riverbank, this time the entrails were missing along with fingerprints and hair burned. Also, the face was completely cut off with the teeth and jaw removed. Honestly, it’s one of the most gruesome scenes out of the ten victims we’ve found.” A CCG officer reported to a table full of superiors, his brown hair was short and unkempt as if sleepless nights were all he had for weeks. “And still no leads as to who the perpetrator is. I’d say it was, of course, a ghoul, but no ghoul had ever gone to such lengths to cover up a victim's identity before, not when they’d just consume them.” The lean man wearing a Dove coat flipped through several pages, “and why just the insides?” He intriguingly mumbled.

For the past few months, the CCG had been noticing a string of attacks that, due to the brutality, led them to believe a new binger had surfaced; and with the grotesque nature and specific missing organs, the investigators named the unknown killer: Parasite.

Simply because in all the cases it looked as if they'd been eaten from the inside out… like it was birthed within them and leaving a trophy.

To Hiro, the corpse looked like skins left behind, like a cicada.

The massacres were oddly precise and calculated. Which on the whole, was not very ghoul-like but with Aogiri Tree anything was possible; but that too felt weird. The ‘ghoul attacks’ were almost too personal and articulated, almost to a detailed art.

Usually, they went after the CGG, not displaying dead humans. Even to a well-seasoned investigator, it was disturbing...

Another man sitting across the table, more professionally dressed, piped up. “Are you implying that this is a human homicide rather than a ghoul attack?” He was a superior, the uniform and honors said as much. The incredulous look in his eyes told the reporting underclass that he was being mocked. “Hiro, I really think you’re looking way too hard into this, the actions of a monster can rarely be predicted or understood. If a ghoul decided to take what they wanted and leave the victim to suffer, then it will.

“Besides, we’ve been seeing higher than normal ghoul activity within the 20th ward as it is, what evidence supports your theory that this could be something that unusual? Yes, Japan has normal cases of murder just like any other country, but this is rather horrific, and to frame ghoul activity seems a bit absurd. To me, all it screams is a ghoul having a little too much fun with its food.”

Hiro sighed inwardly, it was obvious he wasn’t being taken seriously, the social ladder he climbed just to be able to stand here today as an investigator still was nothing to them. He was no Amon or like his mentor Mado, but he still thought he deserved more respect than this. “Still sir, I wish to look into this more! I-”

“Investigator Yamasuwa?”

A voice started from behind startled him as he whipped his head around in mid-sentence to find none other than Amon himself. How long had he been there?!

“I thought you were working into a case right now, didn’t think I’d see you here.” Amon laughed lightheartedly, putting a firm hand on his shoulder.

The tension that was once checked the air in the room was cut instantly by the reassuring smile and relaxing tone like nothing was ever wrong. He silently wished to be like that. To carry himself so professionally, to have confidence and the natural ability to absolve stagnant energy with only a look--just like Amon…

It was no secret that he looked up to the man, and aspired to the ideals that Amon had. He wasn’t ashamed to say he’d try sculpting his tactics to mirror the man on the field. It somehow made him feel...less pathetic. As if he could pretend to be someone greater than himself if only hard work was good enough. 

Hiro could leave a memory behind, maybe something worthwhile and maybe, someone would remember him. That was what Hiro wanted…

“Mr. Yamasuwa, are you alright?” Amon arched a brow and placed his hand on his shoulder.”

“A-ah! Yes, of course! My apologies sir!” Blushing from ear to cheek, Hiro was beyond mortified to have lost himself in thought in front of the very man he admired, how embarrassing! “I was just thinking about this case that had caught my eye for a few days now, I wanted to look closer into it…”

Amon’s eyes lit up, being curious as ever, he was glad that an underling would take it upon himself to do more than even he was asked to, for the sake of justice. “Oh? Has something changed then?” Amon asked, intrigued.

“W-well…” he side-eyed the Inspector, “It’s just that… I don’t know… I feel like this isn’t a normal ghoul case.”

“No ghoul case is normal, Mr. Yamasuwa.” Amon slipped into his instructor's voice, “that should always be a fact. Every situation, every ghoul, has a pattern that is different and unique.” 

Hiro felt like he was being berated like he was a rookie again. He swallowed his embarrassment and gathered his nerves to speak up. “I-I know sir… but I don’t think this is a ghoul… sir.” He squeaked.

That certainly rose a brow, Amon folded his arms now in complete confusion and interested finally in what the man had to say, “Is that so? Why do you think that, Investigator Yamasuwa? As I recall on the case, multiple murders had been scattered throughout Area 20 and with organs missing and in one case even a head that was decapitated. Many investigators believe this to be something of a collector. It's only logical that ghouls would be suspected, wouldn’t you agree?”

Amon’s eyes didn’t seem judgmental to Hiro, not like the others, and for that the relief wash over him like cold water. It felt like he was on equal ground now with the one man that mattered most to him and Amon was genuinely interested in his theories!

“Yes, sir, but you see all of it feels...too convenient.” He fought for words, “like they’re framed to look like ghoul attacks. To pose the deaths as brutal as possible- to leave no question as to what could have done them. Wouldn’t a human do such a thing?”

Amon’s eyes were wide. If that had ever been the case, the concept would be so completely new that he, and anyone else, would scoff at the idea. For in all outcomes, in all the perpetrators, they’d always been ghouls. 

“Perhaps, but why?” he asked, trying to think of any possible motive for someone to go that far out of their way to kill like a ghoul. “Is there proof to support this theory? Not even Blackmarket dealers would go to this extent even for harvesting organs, and even then, in those cases, they would be willing donors for money or the bodies would be disposed of instead of on display. Also, why take parts of the victim, it’d be enough to elaborate a scene just by leaving the corpse just as it was. There still seems to be too many variables missing to make such a farfetched accusation...

“Of course nothing is impossible, and perhaps no human has ever thought of committing such a wide-spread murder constructed in a manner to lead Doves on a wild goose chase, so it isn’t improbable. And if by chance you were correct, that would leave this case with the normal police force, not the CCG to handle a homicide.” Amon explained.

“But if the police were led to believe this was a ghoul’s doings, they wouldn’t touch it either, right?” Hiro said, coming to a sudden realization. “Then it’s a standstill –– it would be perfect if the killer was looking to create confusion in the first place.” He pressed on, excitedly. He had been trying to think of a motive for weeks, and was like the dam had finally been broken!

“That is why I would like to look deeper into the situation, to uncover the truth. I understand that until I have proof this should be treated as a ghoul case, but I would like to prove my theory could be right. Up until you appeared, that was what I was doing you see. I was asking for an extension...”

“I do.” Amon turned to the men in question, all seemed thoughtful, but sitting with an irritated brow was Itsuki Marude; rested his hand under his chin. “I think it would be a beneficial endeavor, on his behalf I would ask that you humor Mr. Yamasuwa, respectively.”

Another man, with refined, slicked-back hair and pressed gray suit, he held his chin nodding. Hiro knew him as Investigator Houji, he was well known for being the on the Gourmet case and spending his life’s work hunting the ghoul down. During the brainstorm between Amon and Hiro, he sat quietly observing while Investigator Itsuki Marude scowled, knowing he was out-ruled.

“I believe you should agree to this as well, Mr. Marude.” Houji spoke up, “after all, your division is the 21st ward. As it stands, these incidents are spread all over the 20th. Which as you know, is mine, and I believe you've been overruled.” He said, in a plain, factual manner.

Marude growled at the blunt disrespect. In spite of knowing what Houji said, it was true, he didn't have the power veto a decision made by the others without several nays to compete with the ayes. “Ugh, fine! But I’m telling you, it’s wasting precious manpower and time trying to find something that isn’t there!”

Houji nodded, keeping typically calm and reasonable. “That is why I feel that a sufficient amount of time will be allotted to you, Mr. Yamasuwa. Three weeks I should say, if nothing is found to catch whomever to be the cause of these murders you claim them to be, you will be reassigned and the case will be placed in another’s hands. Agreed?”

With so much information that was scattered throughout the city of Tokyo, Hiro knew that three weeks was a very short window and with barely a lead this wasn’t going to be easy. But the thought of losing this chance wasn’t something he wanted to dwell on. He would do it.

He’d find them and bring them in and with any luck, it would shoot him up for promotion and even then it wasn’t that that drove it home; it was the recognition! The respect and honors made Hiro's heart race at what he hoped awaited at the end should he close this case. Not only that though, but he’d also be able to both trace patterns that perhaps could pave the way to new constructive thinking, a whole new method of conduct to training for new upcoming investigators, and his name would leave a mark in CCG forever as a pioneer!

Hiro bowed deeply thanking the men before him and boldly swore he’d not fail!

___________________________________

_Click_

“Honestly Hori, what are you doing?” Tsukiyama tsked, looked over his shoulder as he looped his silver tie. Turning to the side to inspect himself, his profile looking slim and handsome as usual. He had to admit, he knew how to show off. Voila! The bright tie was a perfect offset, the ghoul thought pridefully.

“Taking pictures of you primping for your human date, what else?” She said, taking another shot. “You gonna eat her?”

He chuckled darkly, “How rude, Chie. A meal like this should be savored, you can’t just dig in before saying grace! No, tonight is the formality, the bow before the meal, if you will.” He groomed his hair just the way he liked it. “You have to draw her in~, keep her interested bit by bit till she’s wholly yours. Then, that's when you sink your teeth in.”

Hori hummed as if it really mattered to her. It didn’t, she wasn’t a ghoul, how would she understand? All she cared about was filling her memory card with all the best shots, and living a full life.

Besides, it was entertaining when he was like this, “so then tonight is just playing?” Missing the subtle hint his raised brow.

“And by play, you mean…” Tsukiyama trailed off.

“You gonna screw her on the first date!?” She said a bit too loud.

Tsukiyama choked on air and looked aghast as she swung her legs back and forth on his four-poster bed. “Excuse me, but I don’t believe that is a subject that I would like to discuss with you! Such a mouth, Little Mouse…”

It shouldn’t surprise him though, despite her stature of a small child, she was anything but. At the same age as he, Tsukiyama wondered if she was ever intimate with another person; he very much doubted it though, looking at how she reacted to the outside world. She preferred observing life, rather than including herself in it. 

He’d known ‘Little Mouse’ since his high school years, ever since she found out his secret as a ghoul and stuck around that is. Even after threatening her life he couldn’t shake the strange girl. Oddly enough, that was enough to become a substantial cornerstone in forming a close relationship… a friend. Well, his only true friend, Shuu mused. “I’d appreciate if you kept your lewd thoughts to yourself, thank you.”

Hori giggled and took another picture, “why? It’s written all over your face.” She looked back at the viewfinder on her DSLR grinning.

Would he though? He thought it’d be lovely if he could... if she invited him in for coffee, perhaps– yes, _magnifique!_ The thought thrilled him as he turned around silently to face the mirror again, but still saw the squeaking mouse behind him grinning like a Cheshire; it didn’t matter. Even if he knew plans like those were too soon to bear fruit, he could wait. He’d seduce her sweetly, have his fun, claim his prize slowly, and the reward would be all the better for it. A woman like that was a treasure and he’d be the dragon if it meant he could horde her, snarling at all who threatened to take what was his.

“No, tonight will be all about her.” Yes, his. He thought. All his to either revel in or to gorge upon; but it would be his choice to make, no other, he’d not allow it.

Tsukiyama paid no more attention to the photo-centric girl on his bed, and continued to straighten his tie, he knew what she was thinking but nothing had changed. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but he dreamed of the night he’d pleasure her, and she– pleasuring him. Eating her was also a dream, but perhaps the strongest out of the two. They fought him in his slept and sometimes they both coincided with one another. It was a never-ending cycle that was beginning to drive him mad; two wishes that promised to be bittersweet regardless. One ended all too soon with rapturous delight and the other… the other one rather terrified him.

Lovers.

The word shot shivers down his spine. What would that be like? The last few weeks seemed unnaturally long and to finally have an evening of just them energized his mind to countless scenarios, some sensible, some not. Those were darker and devious, just as Hori accused him of, but they were there and he wasn’t able to keep himself from them! Shuu knew it was just the overzealousness overcoming him, and that he needed to reign himself back, it was nothing emotional, not love. It’s never been that.

Yes, the thrill and rush of hunting and eating the prey were always enjoyable, but the giddiness he felt embarrassingly made him feel as though this was his first time. Tsukiyama remembered those days well; being young and so enraptured, obsessively fixated on his prey but as a matured ghoul now, he recognized the signs of euphoria running through the veins and excitement that flooded the mind. That was what this was and it had been a long time since he’d visited those particular highs.

Kaneki, at one point, used to do that for him… but not anymore.

It was all but a surprise when he ran across his lily in the alleyway, and he had never intended to change his directive from devoting his waking thoughts and dreams from the half-ghoul to a strikingly beautiful, human. That had been when he’d stopped near starving himself for the sake of the infuriating boy waiting for the ultimate meal. Instead, three months later, he found himself fine dining every day at the Suiren and the routine of it, the normality of it, was something he realized he grew quite enamored with.

These weeks have given Tsukiyama a gift he’d rather cherished it would seem. Yuri had done that, and even if it came down to the moment to when he killed her, he felt that the least he could do was give her something back as well. Pamper her, give her a token of his gratitude, treat her to the finer things... that, in the very least, he knew she deserved.

Spare her though? Who would he be if he did? Surely not the gourmet! No, spite the admiration he had for her, he doubted he’d make that much of a sacrifice. Life was rarely fair, though more so for her than he, Shuu still wished she’d been born a ghoul. Alas, it was just the cards they were dealt with. 

Sorry, mon amour, but life is rarely fair to us, even for me.

“Well, you going or not?”

“Little Mouse, you have the worse tact. How do you do it?” Tsukiyama huffed while checking himself again for safe measure, and his watch. He felt so fidgety with the photo-fanatic sitting on his bed, watching him, judging him he was sure.

Shuu turned suddenly, “don’t let her see you, Hori. I don’t want to have to explain why I have a paparazzi following me about.” Pointing right at her sharply to issue his warning, “or I'll be very displeased” he deadpanned.

Hori jumped off the bed and mockingly saluted him, “yes sir!”

Tsukiyama rolled his eyes, he knew that she had no plans to allow him his one night of peaceful seclusion with Yuri, and regardless of what he said or did, he couldn’t stop her. It was the one irritating quality of hers: she always had her bases covered. That alone made her impervious to blackmail or threats. The girl did exactly what she wanted when she wanted...

Although his friend, he couldn't lie, the annoyance he got from her blissful ignorance was without bounds.

Tsukiyama could already see it, she’d be shadowing his every move peaking every corner snapping away on that useless thing if it pleases her, and it would too. ‘What does she do with all those photos anyways?’

“I mean it Chie,” Tsukiyama said. Firm and final as he turned to face her, this was going to go smoothly, he swore it. Despite the cold and hard front the woman put up, he saw something in her, and he realized quickly after their last encounter that she’d fight him at every turn if she thought for one minute she was being baited and lured. It wasn’t that he didn’t like a good challenge, he did, but it was far too soon to let Yuri sense his clutches closing in on her.

The fact that she saw straight through him the first time so fast frankly scared the shit out of him. Tsukiyama thought that that was the end for him, and he'd blown the chance at the chase before it had even begun. Which led him to wonder: how many lies did she string along? Did she adopt fronts just as he did to lure her prey? Did she hunt, just like him?

It marveled him to ponder how she lived her life, and how was it she could escape the eyes of both the law and the CCG whilst operating under their very noses. When it came to his restaurant and the Suiren, more and more the spectrum tipped in her favor, and he wasn’t exactly sure if it was such a terrible thing, or if he should be ashamed. Whatever the case, Tsukiyama often realized he’d parked at the entrance, and every time he couldn’t bring himself to be upset.

“But seriously though, is she all that interesting? I mean, she's different than the last sort you were hunting.” Hori stated nonchalantly, “that blonde one you were after only took a week or so before you finished her. She was easy enough.” She said like an afterthought while adjusting more settings on her camera.

“Of course she is!” She's perfect… “I aim for new flavors, new experiences all the time. What kind of gourmet would I be if it was always the same breed?” Tsukiyama flung his suit jacket over his shoulder, “this one's special because she's a thoroughbred… a stallion.”

Hori had seen many of Shuu’s smiles before: evil, joyful, manipulative, calculating, hungry… but this one was different than any of the others.

She pressed the shutter button once more, capturing this new face of Tsukiyama Shuu, the electronic sound of her camera sounding was louder in the silence. Though he didn't see it, something was different in him that Hori rather liked. She liked this new smile on her dear friend. 

Would it all come crashing down, she wondered?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoooaa look at that, two chapters posted in one night! xD How's it going everyone? I've been in a editing mood tonight, it seems. I wanted to take a moment to ask how you all are liking it so far? And please if you like leave a comment! And if not, leave a comment anyway. xD Let me know your thoughts or if you have criticisms, I'd love to hear it. :) Writers love to hear what they put out is appreciated, so not just this story, but for any your read on this site, be sure to send your writers some love no doubt it would make their day. ^^


	4. Dionaea Muscipula

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dionaea Muscipula [dahy-uh-nee-uh] [muːsˈki-pu-la] or Venus flytrap: A carnivorous plant native to subtropical wetlands on the East Coast of the United States. It catches its prey--chiefly insects and arachnids--with a trapping structure formed by the terminal portion of each of the plant's leaves.  
> .  
> .  
> .

“One order of street fair Takoyaki, per your request, my dearest!” Tsukiyama appeared beside Yuri miraculously. Dressed in a flawless black button-up shirt, silver tie, with a red and blue pinstripe blazer, and matching slacks. He came dressed to the nines!

But to Yuri, she said he looked ridiculous...

Looking around and instead of well-dressed philanthropists, CEOs, and the general well-to-do. But rather the wider population was middle-class families and children wandering the vendors and concession stands instead. Needless to say, Tsukiyama wasn’t expecting this sort of outing when Yuri agreed to a date with him.

When he arrived at her door, like a gentleman, he went with whatever she wanted. Letting her pick the destination, however, threw a wrench right in the middle of his plans and with how she acted so smug while smiling, Tsukiyama knew she was aware of his dilemma.

“Hmph.” A huffed brought his wandering eyes back to his lovely date and saw her inspecting the snack as if the possibility of poison was dire.

“Good, you didn’t lace it with anything,” she said after probing it with her elegant nail. “Can’t be too careful you know, what with a beautiful, young woman alone with a prowler.”

“Along with a street full of people and tourists, I might add...” Tsukiyama shot back dryly, crossing his arms.

‘ _A prowler!? I think someone should look in a mirror!_ ’

He could only assume she’s done some prowling of her own. She seemed happy though, cautiously biting into the steaming ball of octopus and making such a sweet provocative moan… it pulled at something inside and he found it incessantly conflicting.

He knew what lust felt like, and there was certainly a fair amount of that going on inside of him. But there was something else entirely inside his bones that made him ache and the thought that it could be a more… permanent predicament residing inside was unsettling. What was it, though?

A kinship? Maybe.

Yuri’s fingers wrapped around the wooden stick and to Tsukiyama it was sensual. Had everything she did before feel like a turn on? Or was his little vixen aware of how much she had him on strings and with just a slight tug he would stumble and salivate?

Tsukiyama wondered if she frequented scenes like this often? Going to fairs and indulging herself in guilty pleasures––the socially acceptable ones––he wondered if she normally went accompanied or was he just lucky?

Tsukiyama choked back a roar of laughter before he completely blew his cover, but by God was it just too damn funny! Here they were, paying the game of perfect, innocent, humans out on a quiet date and the only one oblivious to the irony was her. And he could sit there all day comparing their techniques and patterns never get tired!

How strange––

How strange was it to find himself completely thrown by the universe that it would put this lovely, rare bird in front of his path? To have her sweetly playing the same tune as a ghoul who murdered and hunted just as she did.

It sent shivers down his spine and he savored every last bit of the hysterical irony he could without busting a gut, but it also invigorated him with the question of who will be outed first?

Would he expose her first? Will he reveal himself just for the thrill and put the ball in her court, or will she come for him first and find out the hard way?

Whichever the case, he intended to keep the game going as long as he could. You couldn’t buy this kind of entertainment!

Tsukiyama slipped a hand beneath her hair and slid it down his fingers, he liked the silky feeling and brought it to his lips to kiss. He held her gaze as she failed to eat her snack. “It’d be a shame if any harm came to a beauty such as yourself.”

She just stared at him, with unamused eyes and it made him backpedal, “ah, m-my apologies…”

_'My, quite the resilient one, this one.'_

Clearing his throat, Tsukiyama ignored his failed attempt at charming. “I wasn’t expecting such a… a quaint setting for our first date.” Tsukiyama struggled for the right words, “I thought a pleasurable night at a wonderful, extravagant restaurant would have been the ticket?”

Yuri scowled and wrinkled her nose at the suggestion, and he couldn't stop himself from thinking how incredibly adorable she looked.

“First of all, I can take care of myself, and second, don’t turn your nose up at festivals it’s the perfect place to find the best street food.” She answered without missing a beat–– not even sparing him a second glance, she continued to walk to the next stand.

“I only gave it a half-serious thought before you arrived at my door, you know. But when I saw that ridiculous getup you put yourself in, I knew it was the perfect place.” Yuri cackled evilly, revealing her dark delight at the childish prank.

Yuri, herself, wore a simple outfit that blended well with the festive mood with her knee-length skinny jeans and a Japanese smoker jacket over a plain tank-top. Whereas Tsukiyama dressed exactly how he should have for high-end dinner reservations he had with wine-and-dine restaurant.

A reservation he regretfully had to cancel...

When Tsukiyama arrived at her house, Yuri looked him up and down with a quirked eyebrow and laughed. _She actually laughed!_ She then informed him that where they were going, he didn't need the ridiculous outfit.

Another bite into her steaming hot Takoyaki and she hummed pleasantly. “Besides, I work in a three–soon to be four-star– restaurant every day. Why would I spend my day off in another one?” Rolling her eyes, Yuri took another bite but yelped when she about burned her tongue. “Festivals are special, and I haven’t been to one since I was young, so it’s hard to find the time to go now.”

“I see… so your parents took you then?”

“Hmm,” she mumbled while chewing and avoiding his eyes. “Once.”

Her answer closed the conversation, and it left Tsukiyama arching a brow as he watched her bolt over to a mask booth in what he could only guess was fake enthusiasm.

….What was that about exactly?

“Oh! That one looks cool!” The vendor took a ram mask off the wall and handed it to her, “now I look like a ghoul.” She laughed perhaps a bit too darkly, but Tsukiyama nervously scanned the crowds for any white coats.

Playing it cool Tsukiyama cracked a cocky smirk. The ram face with its horns curving on the sides of her face was a bit obtuse and the shine from the cheap plastic was bad enough but then again, he’d seen masks far worse than one she wore, he supposed.

She would have made a great ghoul, he confirmed. His little sheep turned ram.

“Ha! Better curb that tongue of yours lest Doves start knocking on your door, my sweet.” Attempting to brush off the statement, but a real fear crept up his spine. As the saying goes, guilty by association, the last thing he needed was noses sniffing around his door because of a careless comment.

She never responded to his jab, and it stopped him in his retort. Her face was covered by the mask, so he wasn’t able to judge if she was still upset, but eerie motionless started to become more awkward. He couldn't possibly guess what she was thinking, and he racked his brain what he could have said to offend her this time.

Gritting his teeth, he cleared his throat and shifted his feet. So this must be how humans feel when being stared down by an unknown masked murderer. he concluded. Needless to say, he wasn’t a fan, but he played along anyway.

“Oh, devilish ghoul, how then will you end my life tonight?” Tsukiyama whispered huskily into her ear, “what then would you start with, _ma petite_?” Easily stepping into the role, stroking what he hoped would be the more sinister side of his flower, and stop grasping at straws.

The thoughtful hum made his heart jump, and when she pointed at his chest with her index finger then slid it down his stomach he felt a tightening in his loins.

“I would start with your heart, but that would seem more like a main course with how much muscle the organ has compared to the others. So instead, I would rather take the lungs first. They make me think of large pork chops anyways, and then if I feel partial to it, I would end with parts of entrail and ice the rest for later.”

Tsukiyama’s eyes were wide filled with unadulterated desire. He had never been more aroused by being dissected like a slab of meat in his entire life.

This woman...

It was beyond a crying shame she wasn’t born a ghoul, once more he found himself saying — if he believed in God — if he existed, Tsukiyama would have fought against the injustice of it all and how such a beautiful creature had been quite literally misplaced!

“Oh my sweet,” he lifted the mask up and tipped her chin to peer at her dark eyes and deep inside them he saw the predator, hiding in plain sight, waiting to take her next victim and possibly considering him to be her next… it was all he could to keep his kagune in check, to not blow the whole lid off it all and see who would feast on who.

And with deep reverence, he breathed the next words as the first prayer he had ever known himself to make.

“I would let you,”

_____________

Her face flared red. How did someone go from offending and upsetting her, just from the audacity, to becoming a sacrificial offering?! Her, being scared of a Dove? She was stronger, smarter than that! Anger that once had bubbled up inside so much so that she glared menacingly from behind a mask, now simmered and left her at a loss for words and… shamefully blushing!

“S-stop touching me!” Yuri snapped, trying to hide the disgraceful color on her face. The thought that she nearly been taken in by the seductive offer was embarrassing enough.

She recoiled away from Tsukiyama’s long, graceful fingers. That too made her blush just from the sinfully dark thoughts of what they could be capable of. “I-I certainly didn’t give you permission!” She said again with her back turned, marching off to yet another food stand.

There needed to be distance, yes, she needed to regroup and rebuild her walls. The cool air helped bring her back to her sense and it proved how intoxicating the cologne he wore was. Who could ever find themselves ensnared by such a peacock in the first place?! This was beyond ridiculous, and the reaction alone mortified her.

Yuri tried to ignore the scene they were creating and took a breath to calm herself. Families were whispering to themselves, which caused them to birth more space on the street than before. Why did he have to bring out the worst at the worst timing… she wanted to enjoy herself even if it was with an unfashionable idiot.

“Come now, no need for all this hostility now is there?” He chased her, placing a gentle hand on the small of her back as he rounded to her. He enjoyed touching her, she could tell, just from the subtle rolling of his thumb. “Did I truly offend you so?” There was that whimpering again, dear Lord, this man needed to find a hobby.

Although being an ass seemed to be a full-time job...

Not for the first time, she found herself thinking, why did I even here…? She thought that by going to a festival, she’d be safe from all these unnecessary blabberings, that maybe, the childish requests and environment would put out whatever candle this man had for her.

Fat chance of that happening…

But then in the back of her mind, a voice whispered: but do you really want that? Well of course she did…

She suddenly stopped and stood still while facing away from Tsukiyama, her fists clenched.

She did, didn’t she?

“It doesn’t matter, what is it you want from me? You don’t expect me to believe you want me for me just from one encounter, and if that is true, you _are_ an idiot.”

Or sociopath, she wasn’t quite sure yet. And in some twisted way she hated to hate him; something about how he kept trying to appease her temper and catering to her every whim and desire was appealing to a part of her that loved the control.

Was she as bad as the other woman she saw him parade around? Yuri liked to think she wasn’t, but as she was, it was doubtful. A murder was as low as you could go. A cannibal was lower… so who was she to judge who was bad or good? It’s just that shallow, fake woman annoyed the hell out of her, that’s all.

In any case, it was a nice change of pace for one small second. To pretend she was normal, on a normal date and it was refreshing. Perhaps it’d be ok to break up the monotony of her usual life just for today? Nothing bad could come from a break, right? Though as the hand that was on her back rubbed circles soothingly, she began to doubt herself little by little.

“I wasn’t kidding,” she growled just as a breath hit the shell of her ear. But If it wasn’t for her sheer willpower, she knew her legs would have trembled from his deep baritone voice because she felt her heart leap.

“But I like touching you and...I think you like it too.”

No, no, no. She knew what her pitfalls and traps were, and if not careful Yuri knew she’d be falling headfirst. “Remove your hand, or I can promise you it will never touch again.” Her voice was strong and confident and she was thankful for that, “and no, I don’t.”

They were all lies, but it was the one thing she was good at.

Yuri heard him take a deep breath just as before and he decided to surrender with his arms up and admitted defeat. “Alright, alright, _mon chéri_ once again, I’ll concede…” but he shook his head in dismay despite his words. “But I still wish you would be honest with me, and yourself.” Yuri whipped around to him.

The nerve!

“Myself?!” Yuri crossed her arms, “first of all, I don’t have to tell you anything, and what would you know? You don’t know a thing about me!” For as calm as her voice was, her body language spoke volumes and her eyes bore holes into his soul. He didn’t know anything about her, all she was, was a passing fancy that got his rich panties in a bunch.

There was no reason for him cling to her, her looks? Well, that too was fleeting. It wouldn’t take long for someone as superficial as him to leave when beauty fades. Love? That was a useless emotion to her as well; it clouded the mind and caused mistakes…

So that just left her with lust, the only thing that truly made sense. She could deal with his lust, nothing of that was real either. And she knew that if that was all this was for him, her libido was drawn to his scent like a bloodhound. She knew this because whenever he touched her, her body jolted at the sensation of his caress and it burned through her clothing. It sent a buzzing feeling further south and settled warmly between her legs, the even breathing kept her from muttering swear words. It wouldn't be until she was safe at home that his onslaught of attacks would end. She refused to let fantasies of sharing a bed with him fill her head—he wasn’t deserving.

“I know you’re strong, and it was the time we first shared a glass of wine together that you bested me at my own game. That tells me you’re quite clever.”

“Huh?”

“Back at your restaurant, when you called me a weak player? Heh, I'll say, that _did_ wound me. But that was ok, I realized I was shown another side of you. I learned you were quite good at this too, it was then that I realized you were no stranger to... _our_ ways.” He said cryptically and chuckled “I’m not too proud to admit that you saw right through me, in fact, you downright terrified me. You are the first to have ever said such a thing to me and rightfully put me in my place. I underestimated you, _ma petite_.”

There was that smirk again, the one that curved the side of his lips and it sent a chill down her spine.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, It’s that I know your kind. You're the type of man that lies in wait for an easy prey before sinking your teeth into them. That is all.” all moments passed before she muttered in a deadly tone, “and I’m not going to be your next target.”

For the second time since their meeting at the Seiren, there was that impregnated silence that felt like anything could happen–– good or bad. But Tsukiyama’s expression didn’t change from the overconfident smile, instead, he stepped closer to her, tracing his fingers over her jawline whilst licking his lips.

“Oh, I’m fully aware, _mon Dionaea Muscipula_. You are far too strong for that.”

Yuri only became more confused at every word he threw at her, what was he talking about and was that also french or a scientific term? "What?"

"Dionaea Muscipula: Latin for the Venus Flytrap. A carnivorous plant among a world of flowers meant only for beauty and pollination, whereas the Flytrap– named after the Goddess of love; both mysterious and dangerously beautiful... appropriate I should think, _none?_ "

__________________

As the sky grew dark, Yuri felt the wind pick up and a chill crept up her arms and shoulders that she resisted grasping. She didn’t want to allow him the chance to play the classic chivalrous date, all men just begged to have that opportunity.

The day had exhausted and frustrated her, but as the sunsetted she felt that so did all the pent-up emotions that conflicted within her. They faded along with the dying light in the sky, and the chill that increased soothed and alleviated all the tension that made her so rigid and anxious to the point where, ironically, she didn’t feel so burdened by Tsukiyama’s presence.

Of course, she acknowledged that he was still there, but it was dull full acceptance now, and when he stopped pressing for a conversation Yuri realized he would be a halfway decent companion for someone if his tongue was cut off.

That was the frightening part of the quietness, it set off alarms but she still didn’t seem too bothered by it. And one point she had given up trying to keep up with the unfathomable man twisting here to there, always moving and always talking!

And no matter how minuscule it was, somehow it left an amused smile on her face… but as soon as he turned to look at her, it would be gone.

It turned her stomach to think she enjoyed her time with this insane man, he was wealthy of course, and he wasn’t bad on the eyes if he’d just stop dressing like a kaleidoscope-- but none of that matter. She wasn’t going to get involved with him, or with any man for that matter, there were just too many risks that came with a romantic life that she didn’t have time for.

She wasn't sure how to feel about that. To tolerate someone who reeked of mischievousness is one thing, it's another to enjoy spending your time with them.

Yet, the bright smile he displayed made a warm feeling spread throughout her body and the only thought that came to her mind was: how much of shame it would be to kill that smile.

When Yuri and Tsukiyama arrived at her door, she was both mentally and physically drained to the point that all she thought about was falling onto her bed headfirst and instantly falling asleep.

Tsukiyama, however, looked like he could run a marathon and still have the energy to spare. Ugh, men get all the good genes… Yuri shook her head as she went to unlock her door.

“Ms. Miyoushi, tonight was utterly divine.” He breathed, closing the gap between him and her backside, “would it be out of the question to request for a repeated night out, _mademoiselle_?”

Was he smelling her hair?!

Yuri didn’t turn around immediately back standing ridged and stiff she stayed cemented to the ground with her hand gripping the keys. All she had to do was turn them and go inside. She could lock the door and say good riddance.

“Though it saddens me that we fought more than anything, still I wish to try and redeem myself… actually, I wanted to tell you about the restaurant that I too own.” His fingers ghosted the skin on her forearm, “perhaps another time?”

“Eh?”

Unprepared she turned around to see that he was closer than she realized and was taken aback by the proximity. She knew this was a line thrown out to hook her, and damn did it work. “You lie, Shuu Tsukiyama” but the look in her eyes was filled with intrigue. “You don’t own a restaurant,” did he…?

He chuckled, “I’ve piqued your interest at last have I?” Placing another hand on the opposite side of her, now completely caging her in.

Yuri staggered, “n-no, of course not. I’m just calling your bluff.”

“Tell you what, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?”

The innuendo wasn’t lost on her and rather decided to play dumb and answer a question seriously with another question, “Mine? You’ve already seen the Seiren.”

He laughed. “No, no. Not that, tell me, what’s the secret behind your most treasured recipe? _The Midnight Special_ as you call it. I am quite fond of that dish, as you know.” Tsukiyama enlightened her, though the look he had told her he was after some much more than a recipe.

“I’ve said this before to customers and I’ll say to you as well, it's a family secret.” Forcing the point by enunciating the last bit slowly.

“Pity. As it were, so is mine. For you see, my restaurant is a very exclusive establishment and only by invitation are the location and entry given.” Tsukiyama shrugged.

Oh, two can play at that game!

“Then I’m not interested. From what you say, it sounds more like a black market underground den than one of the culinary arts, I don’t need to be involved with any shady business dealings.” Or shady men for that matter. She already had enough to worry about, she did just fine keeping herself in good favor a few of her wealthy customers assisted in creating a good alibi for her nightly activities

When she’d scavenged for ingredients. Murdered...

As hypocritical as it felt Yuri knew she was calling the kettle black if this place was underground, but the last thing she needed was for even one person to suspect her of dark connections and then rumors would spread like wildfire.

“So I’m afraid, as tempting as that offer is, I’ll have to decline.”

Yuri watched for some kind of reaction, thinking he wouldn’t take no for an answer. She looked for anger, frustration, perhaps even a few choice words to throw at her but instead, he smiled even more. She didn’t know how to take that reaction, should she be worried?

“Maybe one day you’ll change your mind, because please believe me when I say this: I think only you will be able to fully appreciate it and all it’s worth. But I understand that you do not quite trust me yet with such a–– precious family secret and all.”

He was mocking her!

Tsukiyama placed his hand on her door parallel fo her face and his lips were so close to hers that the skin brushed against them when he spoke, “but I aim to change that, _ma chérie.”_

Yuri didn’t know what was happening, it felt like the air had been sucked out of her and all she could think of was how much she had to subdue the burning to press her lips onto his. Her breathing became slightly heavier as her libido flared at the spicy cologne she had only picked up hints of earlier in the evening, and the piercing predatory look he gave her all but clouded her thoughts and blocked all reason from her mind with how enticing and erotic it made him appear.

I have to get out of here!

The only part of her that managed to work against the hypnotic trance he cast on her was the hand that found the handle to her apartment door.

“But this isn’t how I wish to end our evening…” Tsukiyama lifted Yuri’s chin for the second time that evening, She understood his advancements to claim a kiss from her, but for the sake of fighting against him, she stepped away as his lips descended just to spite him. She got a strange feeling though that he preferred it that way.

Was it she who tried all along to distance herself from his attempts of charm and evasiveness by denying him what spurred him on this whole time?

But she knew deep down it was for the best because even as she looked back up into his eyes, something in her lurched to him and wanted to pull him against her, and she had to lock that all away inside before it grew even more: the yearning. But his eyes were beautiful...yet they felt so familiar.

In a last-ditch moment, her body tried to save her as her hand clutched the nob to her apartment only have dread creep up her.

The door was, of course, locked….

“And how did you plan to end it then? Not by welcoming yourself into my home, I would hope.” She said stiffly.

There had seemed to be a slight twinge of disappointment as she saw his right eye twitch. Good.

“N-No, of course not,” It looked like he was suppressing a great deal of frustration. “A gentleman never intrudes or outstayed his welcome, and I fear that I may have done just that.”

“Indeed…” She wanted to say more, and normally there’d be no mercy for anyone she deemed to be beyond the realm of saving or worthy of her patience for someone this persistent, and he was persistent, but somehow the thought ‘B for effort’ came to mind.

Had she really gotten this soft over the last few weeks? What was wrong with her?

Clearing her throat, she regrouped and regained her dignity by turning around to unlocked her door. The spell had been broken. Good. For her and perhaps even for him, because she enjoyed the look of shock from the unexpected rejection of his unspoken request.

The threshold was visible now, and seemingly begging her to cross over into safety and still, she just stood there with her back to Tsukiyama, it was like his legs still hadn’t received the message that the rest of her had. They were cemented to the ground and it was so pitiful!

“It was… nice, I suppose…” Yuri struggled to speak, he had drawn her to him and it disgusted her. So much so, that she’d be willing to destroy him for it, for making her steep this low. How could it have possibly happened of such a short amount of time and when did it even start?! Tsukiyama…damn you!

“Goodnight… Shuu…”

“And you, _ma jolie chérie._ ”

Yuri escaped quickly shut the door behind her, letting out a long-overdue breath that she’d been holding in and as she leaned back on her door, Yuri vaguely though she felt hand grace against her arm and touched the spot.

Yuri hated him, and she hated herself even more for wanting to kiss him.


	5. Broken, Aren't I lovely?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri contemplates and trouble finds her.

_Oh, I hope some day I'll make it out of here_

_Even if it takes all night or a hundred years_

_Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near_

_Wanna feel alive, outside I can fight my fear_

_Isn't it lovely, all alone?_

_Heart made of glass, my mind of stone_

_Tear me to pieces, skin to bone_

_Hello, welcome home_

_Lovely By BIlie Elish_

_____________

It was extraordinary uncommon to find Yuri in a state of complexity, and yet there she was; lost in her confusion. For it only happened when a job went sideways––which was rare. But now, laying on her clean queen-sized bed, she stared at the ceiling with a tightly knitted brow. How could one man turn everything around, just like that?

How was it that for the life of her, she couldn't forget their night together? It had been nothing special; the summer festival with Tsukiyama wasn't exactly a memorable time, well, perhaps in a way it was. She snickered. Yet, he still managed to turn a single moment beyond her imagination and leave her heart pounding with a deep ache that kept her wide awake.

She tried to remember why she hated him, but her thoughts exited and left for a completely different train. His eyes...

The ache would then return.

Deep amethysts… ones that were dark and vibrant. They enchanted her, boarded with the captivating darkness that was the most alluring thing she’d ever seen. They complemented the mysterious aura that followed him; even at the small street gathering earlier, it was there too. It was almost enough for her to forgive him for his irritating insistent flaunting. But the prevalent madness inside her was already hungry for a taste of the small glimpse of what she saw inside him.

But again, she asked herself, why did it matter?

And so, well into the midnight hour, her ceiling seemed to be the only thing interesting enough to keep her awake. In her mind, it was a projector screen replaying the scenes from earlier of the gaudy, aromatic man seducing her at her doorstep. And just nearly succeeding. Yuri closed her eyes and thought she could almost smell what it was that invaded her senses when he had been less than a foot from her. Like an overlapping film that was stuck, everything remained on that moment that refused to budge––was it the madness inside her that was fixated on him then?

The madness, as she called it, was like a snake... coiling and uncoiling––raising its head only at the hint of morbid deviousness. A small tremor ran through her, vividly reminding her of who she was––or rather what––she was… that its head had risen to taste the air the moment Tsukiyama cornered her and set off alarms that should have said enough as to why avoiding him was good advice.

If what she thought was correct, it never boded well to have too many psychos together in the same area.

Normally she’d suspect lust to be the usual culprit, but it didn’t feel the same. Although not to say there hadn’t been plenty of that coursing through her veins, it was something more sinister that stirred between them than just desire. 

But what was it, she thought; was he in the yakuza?

It was only when she killed that the snake awoke alert and eager. Wanting the taste of a fresh kill––with him, it felt the same. When the proximity between them turned to nothing, she felt an age-old shiver akin to the rush of peering down upon her first victim. The hairs on her neck stood up and her body tingled. But what did that mean? She knew nothing about Tsukiyama, aside from the obvious anyway. Could he feel it from her as well? Was he able to sense how much death she was steeped in if he was in _that_ bad sort? Yuri couldn’t imagine him having the faintest idea of how she was a horrible and horrific mass murderer, one who ate the people she killed… who ate her victims.

If he did, right now instead of lounging around on her pillow top bed, she’d most likely be laying on a hard stained mattress or sitting on the cold floor behind bars waiting for her sentencing. Waiting if she’d get life in prison the death penalty.

And here she was, not a ghoul but human–no, she wasn’t human either… she was a monster. Something neither of the two could understand, and she didn’t belong with any of them.

She’d be alone.

She let out a breath that was heavy and loud. Her thoughts were turning back to that place again, back to the despair–– and if she let them go unchecked, she’d be cleaning out the fridge again looking for the ice cream.

And that wasn’t going to be happening any time tonight.

Yuri rolled over into her pillow and thought about just suffocating herself, it felt easier to do than to deal with all this. No. She thought, what did she just say... “no ice cream tonight.”

But what would she do now? Pretend he didn’t exist every time he walked into her doors, asking for the same thing, night after night, like none of it mattered? Like her life hadn’t already been altered in some way… because that certainly wasn’t true.

Could she forget him, was she even capable of that? After what seemed like the ripples he created in just a short few weeks that altered the pattern in her comparably complicated life? Just as in the Butterfly Effect theory, had things already been set into a motion that she wouldn't be able to stop?

Yuri groaned into her pillow once more and wished sleep would take her, and be done with it. 1 pm… it was that late? Wanting her mind to stop, she wondered if a sleeping aid would help. Nothing more could be done about this… mess she found herself in, and she was exhausted from, well, everything! From the day, from _him_ , with herself––she was just _so_ tired…

But as she lifted her head from her plush pillow, her eyes saw the card, that for the life of her, couldn’t figure how it traveled from the kitchen bar counter to the nightstand beside her. What was this? Was the universe delighted by her suffering and just goated her with more ways to rub salt on to the wound? Yuri gritted her teeth and snatched the card up and threw it into the waste bin beside it with unnecessary force. It didn’t have the satisfactory crunching or shattering sound that a phone hitting the ground would make, _it was only paper._

Nothing threatening. Nothing worth anything… so why feel so vehemently destructive against it?

Because she could––that’s why. She didn’t need to justify hating inanimate objects associated with him. Yuri didn’t feel it was petty, nor did she feel the need to belittle herself by saying it was; she had every right to feel exactly how she did. So, instead, she berated him, all the while kicking the poor waste bin. “Stupid, _little_ , annoying…” she growled, “ _Man!_ ”

Still… she couldn't bring herself to just rip up the number.

“How pathetic am I, that even that makes me feel like I want it around.” The chef grumbled, turning her heel though she looked at the time. 1:30 pm, too late to take the rail train since the stopped running thirty minutes ago, Yuri dared not hunt on her own grounds. Not when her apartment was within distance.

“Well, the Yamanote line is long gone...” She clicked her tongue in thought.

The Yamanote Line, the easiest JR rail train in Tokyo. It hit all the major areas in the city like Akihabara, Harajuku, Shinjuku, and the such. After 1 pm though, they stopped; and Yuri had no desire to walk such lengths to get what she wanted… but she didn’t want to stay here, either. The itch to go _somewhere_ only grew and so was the restlessness. She trudged to her closet to grab at anything that looked like it was warmly knitted and a coat. She was half surprised that dressing in the dark didn’t look like she'd done just that. She looked homely.

The wind was chilly, and it felt nice to her. The cool night was refreshing as Yuri made her way on the other side of the crosswalk she knew that at this time of night bars would be opening and very few wanderers would out to find her. She'd be the only one walking aimlessly, lost to the night with only her shadows to chase her, where no one would care or know of her. There’d be nothing to save her from her demons or her sins that await her at the end of it all.

That’s what she had wanted that night, she thought. An end to all. A final stop to the hauntings of the boundless darkness that swelled up inside and threatened to choke her in her weakness. That’s why she had begged for it that night, for that ghoul to finally stop it for her. If it meant her death was gruesome, then so be it––just as long as all her shame, guilt, and loneliness ended.

And now, because an unknown reason that she’ll never know, she was alive––walking the same dark streets again, trying to escape herself.

Yuri's wandering continued without a coherent thought to where, her eyes kept glued to the ground watching her grey flats move in front of the other, she let them decide on her destination. It must have been an hour or two before she finally looked up, it didn't take long to draw the conclusion she was lost: it only hit home harder that it mirrored that she felt just lost on the outside as she did inside. How fitting... it wasn’t like she had any direction in her life; Yuri had what she thought she wanted… and it had proven her so wrong.

What else is there in life outside of ambition? And once you’ve achieved it, was there anything left? Yuri resisted the urge to scream out into the void, she hated that she wanted more––wanted something _normal._ A family, a lover… she wanted what she couldn’t have. She knew it was impossible, and yet she _still_ wanted it. Not for a freak––not for her. Only the tease, a flirt, a one night stand, but that’s all. Never love.

And it made her cry.

Quickly turning into a dark alley to shield her bitter tears from any unexpected by-passer, she tucked herself away behind a vending machine where she unleashed it all. It had been months since her last breakdown, it occurred to her and her sobs grew louder. She was so broken and she couldn’t be fixed or saved. Who was she to wish for these things or be destroyed that she didn't have them. Who was she to wish for happiness knowing she killed and robbed so many of theirs? What right did she have to claim any of it for herself?! That was what a monster was though, she knew, taking from others to claim for yourself. 

“Well, if it's all that bad, maybe I could help you.”

A voice, both sinister and gravelly, made Yuri stiffen and shot her head up from her arms and saw a sickly middle-aged man––no, _ghoul_. His Kakugan were bright and looked her over as if she was the next prime rib.

“I’m lucky I got here first, your wailing is like a homing beacon. I’m sure ghouls within a mile radius can hear you.” The ghoul laughed, inching closer as he talked. “So let's make this quick shall we? I really don’t want to have to fight a horde off just for dinner. That would just piss me off.”

Yuri felt like her heartbeats went in slow-motion and time had stretched. What would be the reason for fighting him? She had just cried her eyes out over a life she could never have, so wouldn’t ending it be better than fighting that inevitable fate? This one seemed much easier to accept…

“Okay.”

“H-Huh?” The ghoul stuttered, did he hear what he thought he heard? Did she just agree to be eaten?!

“I said: okay. Did the ghoul in you rob you of your hearing too? God knows your appetite is something to be desired; a pathetic girl in despair would have been my last choice, in my opinion.” Yuri said in a monotonous tone and shrugged. Making light of the situation seemed to be a special skill set of hers.

The sicking cackle came back again and Yuri felt like she wanted to throw up, “what would you know? You’re a human! You don’t have to feed as we do––like demons in the night, all you humans think like that, how privileged you are to live so comfortably…” he sneered and spat at her feet; Yuri looked at it idly, widely disinterested at the churlish man.

Hah, she felt the irony arise in her, literally the inane laughter was empowering and made her senses numb at how truly bitter she felt.

“Well, your partially right, I am human.” She said once she took a deep breath, letting it rush back out in a loud sigh. She ran her hand through her hair giggling a little more, “but I’m in the same boat as you, friend, honestly I’m surprised I haven’t been caught yet.” Who cares anymore, none of it suddenly mattered… she would finally die tonight, by some odd revelation it occurred to her. Why she even bothered with self-preservation before; if she was caught by the police or the Doves, it'd be as good as dead. If caught by a ghoul: death.

The ghoul took exception to her attitude and apparently didn't like how belittling it felt to be laughed at, so, picking her up by her clothing he slammed her into the wall behind her. "Listen here, B-"

"My, my, being so barbaric with a woman... how boorish."

Yuri, as well as the ghoul, immediately turned towards the voice. She was shocked to find none other than Shuu Tsukiyama standing there, grinning from ear to ear, mocking the enraged ghoul! "S-Shuu, what are you doing––get out of here!"

Instead of agreeing and fleeing, a blissful gasp escaped his lips with a hand over his heart. "My dear, I believe that is the first time you've called me by my first name!" He chuckled, "I'd love to hear it again from you, but in a more pleasurable setting of course..."

 _Ugh, what an idiot!_ "Tsukiyama! Shut up and- _Ahg!_ " Hearing a growl she looked back at the ghoul just before he threw her into a row of trash cans causing her to land on her arm and hit her head on the vending machine beside them. Pain surged through her body, her neck felt like it had whiplash and her head was in searing pain. She could barely open her eyes, let alone move.

"So, are you begging to be dinner too?"

" _Pourquoi? Non_ , I don't believe so, not I... though it is infuriating to know that you made Ms. Miyoushi do so." 

She could hear the footsteps walking further from her and towards Tsukiyama, she couldn't believe how easily she was out of commission. His strength was far greater than a normal man's even still, she tried to move her head to see what was going on but her vision blurry and all she could make out as that cocky smile on Tsukiyama's face. Bewildered her last thoughts were: why didn't he look unafraid, and why didn't he flee? 

A realization hit Yuri hard as she knew she was blacking out; she worried for that idiot...

___________________

When Tsukiyama saw Yuri on the ground and out cold, a sense of relief washed over him. He knew he had to step in to prevent his prey from falling victim to another but it had been only a half baked plan, he didn't exactly know what he could do without revealing his true nature to her so soon. And he'd rather not expose himself so pre-maturely if he could help it.

Besides, she was his; he would decide her fate, not this disgusting rat.

So when he saw that his façade was no longer at risk, there was nothing left to hold him back. He was sure the ghoul had already picked up on his scent by now with how his face morphed from a cocky smirk to an aggravated glare. 

"Hah! I didn't do shit. She's the one looking like she wanted an easy out anyways." The ghoul puffed up his chest and squared his shoulders, "but I can see now, you're just swooping down to steal her" he snarled. His kagane morphed out of his back and into multiple spiral tails with razor edges gearing up to attack. "That ain't gonna happen!"

How cute. Tsukiyama licked his lips as his kagane curled around his right arm and his eyes turned.

"A _Rinkaku_ , eh? And such low class at that, what a pity..." His kagane began to spin like a drill, "so brittle compared to mine. I guess I'll just have to break them off!" And not a second later, he darted forward with such speed that the ghoul was unprepared. Despite being a koukaku, Tsukiyama moved with ease as if the weight of his weapon was nothing but a feather which gave him a higher advantage than any normal ghoul of his caliber. "I'll break them like glass!"

Within moments the man was on the ground bloodied and broken. He never even had the chance to take a swing at Tsukiyama and he couldn't understand it. 

"Wha- who are you!?"

He smiled while approaching the man, and before he stabbed him in the heart, relishing in the gruesome gurgle he made and the blood, he answered him: "A well-invested gourmet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really always put song lyrics in but when songs really speak to me about my characters or scenes that I feel really fit it just happens. lol Sorry if it feels cliché. I really hope I convey the struggle Yuri goes through with being someone who-- idk, don't fit in the world around her because of who she is, and that the world of normalcy and the world's simple pleasures are locked away from her. She knows she isn't allowed happiness nor does she think she deserves it.
> 
> It's such a fine line of knowing the actions of evil and feeling it was what makes you evil, and wishing you weren't and hating the life you cannot turn back from. Is the mindset I suppose I'm trying to portray. xD


	6. Happy Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not all birthdays are special, and Tsukiyama and Yuri in the aftermath of the ghoul attack.

_Yuri was a happy child, she had many friends with even fewer enemies or bullies. A very fortunate girl indeed with a mother and father that loved her and she wanted for little. But despite all of the advantages of life, she was loving and humble. Yuri never did what she wasn't supposed to, and listened to parents and her authority. She was a good daughter and friend. So, at a young age, Yuri learned that the good and innocent are never really fortunate._

_The classroom was bright and filled with memories, projects stuck all over the walls and very cheerful. It always made Yuri happy at least, she was good a school and very intelligent for her age. Today, she wore her new yellow hairpins pulling her hair back into a long ponytail shinning in all their plastic glory. She was sitting at a desk packing her bag with books and homework from the day when her teacher walked over smiling._

_"Today's your big day, right Miyoshi-chan? Well, happy birthday!"_

_Her face lit up with wide eyes and a cheesy grin, much like a child's smile should be; nothing was more magical than joyful innocents. She thanked her teacher before grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulders and bound out the classroom door. Yuri heard a 'no running' shouted from behind, but she paid it no heed._

_It was her birthday, she was exempt from rules––for today, anyway._

_'I marked my calendar weeks ago, and at home mama and papa will have the biggest cake and hugs waiting for me!' All the thoughts circled in her head, repeating themselves over and over that she practically vibrated with exuberance and found herself hard to contain it all._

_She was 8 today..._

_All her friends congratulated her by giving her pretty hairpins and a myriad of colored bracelets that matched their own. It was all so special, and she was so happy. It was dusk by the time she made it home._

_Today was going to be so perfect. She knew it would be, nothing could ruin it._

_Yuri couldn't even remember the trip home and found herself at the front of the gate to her little two-story home before she knew it. Everything was the same, it was all normal. Just like all the other houses, but this was hers and therefore, it was special. Her little eight-year-old giddiness was exploding as she ripped open the gate and burst through the front door._

_She yelled loud as her lungs would allow,_ "Tadaima!!"

_However, no one answered. It was oddly silent, and her voice reverberated off the walls like she was the only soul that resided there. Were they not home? She called out again just as before but still, no one came to her or responded. At first, she was worried then disappointed; but it suddenly occurred to her that they were hiding, it must be a surprise birthday party!_

_So off she went–– taking off her shoes and throwing her book bag to the ground Yuri began to search the house. Moving from room to room, when she found nothing after scouring the main floor she went upstairs to look up there, but when her feet nearly stepped on broken glass from a fallen picture frame, and small blood drops leading towards the door at the end of the hall that too, had smeared red stains on the handled and entry frame. She knew something was wrong, not even Yuri's innocent mind could pretend it wasn't and dread racked her body as a sound of chilling laughter came from behind it, along with other undistinguishable sounds._

_"M-mama..." She tried to call out, but it was no louder than a broken whisper and she felt fear for saying that much._

_She saw shadows moving within the cracks of the frame, she stood as till as statue in the hallway, she wanted to go in, she wanted to -know- but her hand refused to move an inch closer, she was petrified with fear._

_Clenching her eyes tightly, what if it was a ghoul..._

_That was the last thought she had when she stepped backward, finally realizing she wasn't safe. Her home wasn't safe. She'd go the police, they'd know what to do... that's what her mother told her: if she was scared or in danger––find the police._

_But as she carelessly stepped back, she hit that one squeaky floorboard and the noise inside the other room stopped and it became nerve-wracking quiet._

_Then, a sickly haunting voice called out._

_"Oh~? Do I have a visitor?"_

_The sharp bristle of fear spiked and she felt as if she was electrocuted from the sudden realization of being discovered and hit stopped her heart. Yuri heard the footsteps nearing the other side of the door and before it could open, she bolted back down the hall towards the stairs as fast as she could. But just as her left foot made it to the first step, she was snatched up by her clothing and dangled in the air by a long talon extending out of the monstrous ghoul who grinned at her with blood-stained lips and clothing. She had never seen one before, had never witnessed blood like this before. Through her tears that fell from her eyes, she knew it was her parent's blood that was splattered everywhere and knew hers would be apart of the same bloodstain mosaic._

_"Ahh~! A snack has made its way to me!"_

_"Please... D-don't..."_

_The monster howled a hysterical laugh, "you humans are a riot! You think pathetic plea can change the inevitable?!" The hackling of her laughter echoed off the walls, this time causing Yuri to hunch forward with more tears flowing._

_"How old are you, child?"_

_"....Eight. It's my birthday..."_

_Her bloodstain smile got a bit bigger, "Well happy birthday! You know... maybe I won't eat you."_

_Yuri looked at her in unbelieving, "what?"_

_"How would you like to be my pet? A project maybe?" She giggled, "I could teach you how to be strong."_

_"W-why...?"_

_"I don't know, maybe cause it'd fun. Don't you think so?"_

––––

Yuri awoke with a jolt and gasping for air. Her heart pounded out of her chest as she looked frantically around and instead of the blood-splattered walls, they were clean and white. The horror scene fled from reality and saw that it was just a dream; or rather a memory... a memory she thought was long buried away.

Yuri fell backward heavily and turned into her pillow, breathing into it to calm her erratic heart and fried nerves. What the hell was that?! Where did that even come from? Yuri never wanted to remember that day for as long as she lived. Was it the ghoul attack from last night that triggered it? No... that didn't make sense either, that wasn't her first time. She was closer to death when she first arrived back in Japan nearly four months ago, back in that dark alley.

Then she was spared. Again. "Wait-" She stood up in bed again. "Again... how did I get home?" She remembered being attacked last night and blacking out after being thrown into the vending machine, but that was it. She looked down and saw she wore the same clothes as yesterday, although a little worse for wear. The sweater she wore was no longer on her person but that she still wore the long sleeve shirt and legwarmers she had on the night before.

"Ah, you're finally awake!" 

Yuri turned to find an immaculate and at-home Tsukiyama, strolling over to her with a cup of coffee and placing it on her bedside table. Her confused expression fueled his arrogant smile even further because it only grew bigger. "What are you doing here? How did you get in here?!"

"Ah well, it does not take a brilliant detective to find one's keys in their pocket." Tsukiyama patronized, taking the cup once more and presenting it in her hands. "Go on, I just made it. It'll do you some good."

She took it dumbly like he commanded her body to move according to his whims. "How generous of you...." she said in a monotone voice. Her eyes barred nothing, clearing sending the message that he was untrustworthy. 

He was a snake, she reminded herself, and she'd not let herself become ensnared. Taking a cautious sip, and keeping that fact that the taste alone sent her to heaven hidden. Yuri cleared her throat and looked at him pointedly before starting her slew of questions. "How did you exactly escape a ghoul, and with me now less?! It seems highly suspicious that you appear to be in no physical harm while I was thrown into a machine, you no doubt would have had a difficult getaway with me in tow." Yuri began interrogating him after having proper time to fully asses the odds of them escaping such an encounter. 

In all honesty, she shouldn't have been surprised when he simply laughed her off as if she just told the world's greatest joke. That seems to be his thing: being insufferably annoying. "Oh, my love, you simply have the graces of luck and the universe to thank for that." He said, in an elaborate voice.

Wha- "What in the world are you talking about?" Why can't this man make any sense?!

"Why, just as I knew you and to be done for, lo-and-behold, a proud and brave Investigator valiantly appeared and swiftly dispatched the ghoul––thus, saving the day! I quickly made way to your side and left the matter in his very capable hands and escaped with our lives." Letting his long-winded tale sink in for effect, his sly smile never fading "You're are very welcome, _mademoiselle!"_

"I didn't ask to be saved," she snapped. "In fact, I told you to run."

Tsukiyama clicked his tongue, annoyed and maybe perplexed. "What seems to be your fascination with dying?"

_"Excuse me?"_

Looking as though he let slip a secret he hadn't meant to, Tsukiyama quickly backpedaled, even further confusing her. "Ah, just that- oh, for a person like yourself to willingly become a midnight snack for the sake someone like me; well, either our date truly did leave a bigger impact than I thought or you have a deathwish." Tsukiyama shrugged, in a very American-like style.

"You say that as if I had a choice in the matter? I was hardly in a position to save you, telling an idiot to save himself was the most logical thing to do." She huffed, "you act like it was from the graces of my heart."

"It wasn't?"

"Of course not!"

A quick hand over his heart, feigning a fatal wound, "yet another cruel blow!"

"...You're an idiot..."

"But an irresistible idiot, _non_?" His grin showed his perfect white teeth, and she hated that she thought it attractive.

"No."

The deadpan response left Tsukiyama a little more perturbed than his joking manner led to believe. So much so that he began to see Yuri as the pinnacle, the ultimate conquest: Mount Everest!

Yuri took another sip out of the delicious coffee and mumble something barely audible, she wasn't sure if he'd heard her, or even that she wanted him to but it lifted his sour expression and she knew that he had.

"You're very welcome, Ms. Miyoushi."

She lifted the mug once more in attempts to cover her face. The last thing she needed was to show her shameful blushing. Once she reclaimed her composure, Yuri placed the empty cup on the table beside the bed and decided remaining in bed any longer would make a lazy woman of her.

"Don't you think that unwise, Ms. Miyoushi? Getting up after such a tousel from last night?" He asked as he moved to stop her, she was already trying to stand up and saw she had bandages covering her shoulder when her shirt slipped down her arm.

"My shoulder... did you do this?" She pushed the shirt down further, examining it by poking and prodding; she hissed, yep definitely a nice bruise underneath that. "I never asked for your help... why do you keep showing up, wherever you're not wanted!?" Yuri spoke, although her words all but lost their bite.

He closed the gap between them, Tsukiyama looked as if he was debating something and his eyes went from her wound to her eyes, then wandered elsewhere. "Must I be told to help a damsel looking for death?"

"I am not a damsel!"

"So you _were_ looking for death?"

"I think you should leave!"

He shoved his hands into his pockets and huffed loudly while looking up, most likely praying for divine patience, "fine. But first I think I deserve my reward." He said, cocking his head sideways.

Yuri looked up at him aghast, "excuse me?!" She repeated once more, "as I just said, I never asked nor wanted your disruption into my life, and therefore owe you nothing, now leave!" She shouted back, pushing him against his lean (but surprisingly strong) body.

"Very well, a barter then––a kiss for my absences," he smirked.

She simply crossed her arms and glared back, "I don't negotiate with terrorists."

Now that one did have him erupting with laughter. "My, a terrorist am I?! What interesting pet names you have for me, may I bestow mine upon you then?" He asked, knowing his cheekiness only made her all the more furious.

"It's not a-"

"I call you my beautiful 'Moon-Eyes', although I'm always up for suggestions if you have any." He tipped her chin up, so her eyes, blazing like molten silver, was made to challenge his own coy, mischievous ones. "I think it's quite fitting, however."

"Stop it! I don't care what you call me, you are nothing to me, and I will never be anything to you. I want you to leave!" Her words came out in a flurry and her mind became white noise as she spewed out all of her frustrations and anger a mile a minute. "Why do you care about me? Who am I to have an a-a ritzy, rich guy following my every move and stalking my restaurant and acting like I'm the next big thing?!" 

She continued heatedly, seeing him watch her patiently with a raised brow, only spurred her on. "You think I'm so easy that I'd hang at every word you spoke and trip over myself just breathe the same air as you?" Scoffing she shook her head with tongue in cheek while looking away, trying to think of more ways to roast the arrogant man. "You're like all the rest, thinking you can––"

" _Mon Dieu.._ ." Tsukiyama rolled his eyes before massaging his temples. "Honestly Mademoiselle, if I didn't–" He stopped himself and took a moment to regain his composure before flashing his best smile, the 'ol lady killer. "If I didn't find you _absolutely_ irresistible in every way."

There was a beat, a minute of complete silence as the two of them kept their eyes locked onto one another. They had visited this silence before and it was familiar to her, but then Yuri without warning irrupted into hysterical laughter. "Wow..." She gasped out, "that's just..." again another fit overtook her. "Do you practice that on yourself in the mirror?" She asked as she slapped her leg, still trying to get a breath in. Tsukiyama stood there looking as if he'd been smacked. "Please don't tell me that's worked before!?"

Gapping like a fish out of water, Tsukiyama stood there being openly mocked and ridiculed over something he didn't think was -that- funny. "Wha- how-... how dare you!" He puffed out his chest looking around wildly. 

Yuri finally able to give her giggle fits a rest and gave Tsukiyama an amused look, "you really _are_ a pompous peacock." She commented, as his scowl only worsened, "with its feathers all ruffled." Humor laced heavily in her voice and was she was sure to take over her once more but managed to wrestle it down. "You are a bit too much."

Looking away, He stuffed his hands in his pockets harshly due to his wounded pride with a huff, but unable to keep his gaze from wandering to her smiling. It lifted his spirits.

"Well... perhaps I can swallow my honor for the sake of my lady's smile..." Now that did ignite a true smile, it was smaller, but Tsukiyama liked this one far more. Deciding that his time had come to an end, he checked his watch and knew he had to be off; he knew he had far extended his welcome and he knew when to pull back. "And sadly, I must bid you _adieu_. I have a few prior engagements I must attend to... but," he took one step closer "I pray you'll not be a stranger, hm?" That cocky smile never vanished as he walked away and headed to the door.

"And what about the kiss?" Yuri called out, his hand already on the handle when looking back, she thought that was part of the deal, not that she was baiting him or anything.

"I'll take a raincheck," and then he was gone. The banter that had filled the room seconds ago quickly evaporated and was swallowed up by white walls leaving her in utter silence yet again. It was such a stark difference she realized, and she felt herself beginning to wish he'd come back.

"Yea, raincheck..." Yuri mumbled. She walked over to the other side of her bed to find her trash can and saw the crisp white card still sitting inside. She battled with herself longer than she'd like to admit but eventually she reached for it but continued to stare at it. "What would be the harm, right?" She clicked her tongue, "I'll just... add it to my contacts."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! It's been a minute, I apologize. Things seem to be getting crazy out there, so first and foremost, I hope you all are staying safe and healthy. I pray your countries are doing what they can to provide aid and assistance to you and everyone else that are being affected during this time. It still blows my mind that in this age we are having a plaque pandemic. I hope you all stay safe out there! Unfortunately for me, I work as a food vendor and so I must work in my grocery stores were all the mass panic is and attempt to fill my shelves, hoping not to contract anything which more of a bigger deal for me and my mother with her Leukemia and my MS which is an autoimmune disease... :(
> 
> But for those safe at home I hope to provide entertainment more for you all and to help with the boredom by bringing out more chapters. :)


	7. Losing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Yuri's past is revealed, and Tsukiyama saves Yuri from a terrible mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are continuing to be safe and are practicing good distancing methods. Every day I hear more of what our president in the US isn't doing for us or could be doing more I fear for you all especially in the critical states like Michigan, NY, and California. Please everyone I pray you make through this just as much as we all can try and make it through these times.
> 
> Stay home and read more fics! (also please R&R! xD)

_"How was it, child? Don't let any go to waste now," her voice was sweet, unnervingly so. There was a beautiful woman with long dark hair coddling a young Yuri, feeding her from a bowl with a fork in hand. All Yuri could do was whimper and shake her head, "now, what did I say? Either you eat your dinner, or you get nothing at all." Like a light switch, her voice changed from the pleasant cooing into a darker growl, it terrified Yuri causing tears to fall from her eyes like they had been since she was brought to this terrible palace._

_Finally, Yuri opened her mouth take in the unidentifiable meat that only made her choke and gag. "No..." She wailed with the food still her mouth, too afraid to spit it out but too horrified to swallow it. Before she could expel it back into the bowl, the woman roughly covered her mouth with her hand, gripping her face with a painful pressure._

_"I said, 'eat'" she growled._

_With much difficulty, Yuri swallowed her food and felt it wanting to crawl back up her esophagus. Heaving, she managed to keep it down but continued to gag from pure disgust._

_"N-no, no more..." she begged._

_"You will eat what I give you, you ungrateful little brat." The woman spat back, "I even cooked it for you. You should be happy I took into consideration that you're human." She took the bowl and threw it at the little girl's feet. "Humans are frail and pathetic, they get sick and die so easily." She grimaced at all the extra work it took to keep one alive "If you were a ghoul, you'd eat that raw and without any complaints."_

_It had been three days since Yuri had been abducted by the very ghoul that massacred her parents. The house she was brought to was quite large and immaculate. The decoré was minimalist but fashionable, it was clear to her the ghoul had money. But in spite of that, she had never seen another soul other than her and the woman. Didn't rich people have servants? Or in the very least, guards or butlers. But no, there had been no one but the two of them and even the meals were made and fed to her by the ghoul._

_"Why am I here?" She finally asked, Yuri for the last three days waited till she'd be killed and eaten thinking the ghoul would tire of her._

_"I_ told _you, you are my project. Something to pass the time and entertain me." She huffed, "although right now all your doing is trying my patience. Bring your bowl here, Yuri"_

_She did as she was told and meekly walked to her side. Giving her the bowl and instead of walking away Yuri stood there awkwardly; not sure if she could say want she wanted to ask or not._

_"Yes?" The woman snapped._

_The sudden harshness made her jump, feeling even more insecure of saying anything at all. "S-so... I'll... never get to go home?" She knew her house was anything but home now, but in her mind where else could she go? It was all she had left, and it was everything she knew._

_"This is your home. I thought you were smarter than that?" The clothes that the girl wore were from her, gone was the stained school outfit and was replaced with a fine dress, showing the woman's wealth. "I clothe you now. I feed you now. This is where you will stay; think of me as your new mother."_

_Shocked, Yuri backed away from her. What? That_ thing _was not her mother, nor would she_ ever _be. "Never..."_

_A loud clank sound came from china being slammed into the sink filled with soapy water making Yuri jump out of her skin as tears began to form again._

_"_ What? _" The question wasn't because she didn't hear Yuri, she was daring her to openly defy her._

_Backing further away she gasped when the woman's eyes turned red. Still, gripping onto what courage she had and repeated herself. "I-I... I already have a mother..." she said meekly, already terrified at her mistake._

_The room was eerily quiet and the ghoul didn't say anything back, but slowly, she loomed over Yuri._

_"Your mother is dead. I_ ate _her." She roughly grabbed her face and forced her to look up at her, "and I'll do the same to you if you continue to being the defiant little trash that you are."_

_All the woman got back was the muffled sob followed by the stiff jerky nod, due to the grip on her face._

_"Good." She released her a jerk and went back to the dishes, "I am your mother now. Call me 'momma'"_

_The smile was cheek splitting and Yuri in her terror wanted to throw up._

–––––––––––

Somewhere in the 20th ward of Tokyo, a dingy motel room that had been rented out for the next three weeks was filled with papers, string attach to tacks, trays filled with cigarette ash and a man haphazardly laying the springy sofa that looked way too old. 

Hiro only had three weeks to find the murderer before he'd be kicked off the case. It felt like a demotion, despite it only being relocation. He hated it, it left a sickening feeling in his stomach, making it churn. With a big sigh, he got up from the uncomfortable couch and looked at the lines again. The stringed tacks were pinned to a map with each location being the sites of murders, none of which made a connection to his eyes. It infuriated him beyond anything that he ever worked on before.

They were scattered, the people were female and male, between the ages of 25 up to 57. There was no real link as to why, they were adults, able to go out on there own at night... but that's all he had gathered. It truly looked like just a ghoul binger and that was what made it so much harder to establish them as murders. All he had was the way he saw the victims, the way they were left behind. And his gut.

"What the hell..." He grunted as he wiped his hands down his face, his eyes were dry and tired from the lack of blinking and staring. "How am I supposed to get a lead with this?"

Hiro began pacing the floor as he had been for hours, "the last victim that could be identified, was a 26-year-old woman five weeks ago..." he listed some details off. "Worked as a full-time cook, graduated college, no history of any criminal record or offenses..." The murder when it happened was dismissed as an obvious ghoul attack, her parents were notified, who was of course devastated. But as he looked more and more into the statement of the investigator's report he felt something was off. The parents were told... but her workplace wasn't? That seemed a bit odd.

"Why wouldn't they tell her employer? Did they just assume she quit?" 

Hiro stroked his stubble, maybe he could start there, it was better than nothing. Turning around, he realized how trashed the place was. Not only were the walls lined with newspaper clippings followed but pinned thread, but paperwork scattered all over the floor and coffee table that all pertained to the victims. With a heavy sigh, Hiro scratched his messy hair. "I should clean up first."

–––––––––––

Time passed quickly since Yuri looked up from her horde of pillows and saw 8:30 pm blaring at her from the clock resting on her night table; her eyes were groggy and sleep clung to her tightly. In her state of exhaustion, the events of last night still felt fresh somehow. Between Tsukiyama and resurfacing memories, she decided that a few sleeping pills and the blissful emptiness of sleep were what she needed the most and when she awoke next the glow of the setting sun made her realize she slept the entire day away.

Maybe she took too many pills?

After Tsukiyama left, a fleeting thought entered her mind of not wanting to be alone but being who she was–– she couldn't allow herself to go after him. The tight feeling in her heart said _sleep, It'll all pass..._ it would all go away then. 

And it did. 

After getting up and taking a much-needed shower she felt lighter and free from the constraints of the conflicting emotions from yesterday. The remnants of feeling like herself started to come back again, much to her relief. 

_Although Tsukiyama seemed to have thwarted that plan, thoroughly..._

Sighing loudly, she drudged herself out of bed to put on some decent clothes, she'd already called in for the night, knowing that the state she currently was in, working wouldn't have been best. But staying here wasn't ideal either. 

Since the flood gates of her memories and trauma had been broken, the walls that were meant to protect her now felt like they closed in on her and amplified her thoughts to an unbearable volume.

She needed to breathe.

But she thought about maybe checking in on her people unawares, just to see how they were faring? She had confidence in her staff, but like a worried hen, she did sometimes hover and micromanage at times. She hated that she wondered if Tsukiyama would be there, waiting for her at the same table as always. Would he be there if she peeked in, and if he was, would she just turn right around before he saw her?

_Probably._

"I hate that he's in my head so much." Scrunching her nose even as she spoke those words, what wretched spell had he spun on her "and why do I even care?!" She growled.

Tearing her door open with a little too much force, she whipped out into the evening air hearing her door slam shut from her furry. No, she wouldn't stop there, her people could handle it and she didn't need to run into that man again, not tonight. She didn't have the patience for him however much her mind seemed to be plagued by his face, she knew she shouldn't. Instead, she would wander through the more populated streets and think about her next target, or whoever she could find to be lonesome and solitary. Yes, that's what she would do. 

No more of this foolishness and pining.

And as she stomped down the stairs and back into the open with little to no one crossing the streets the dé já vu washed over her. This was just as it as yesterday too, how she felt her emotions raging, and causing her to feel from the solitude and loneliness of her empty apartment, all that which resulted in her attack. How had she become such a slave to her wild rage and conflicts that she knew stormed inside her that she never intended to ever have.

What was happening to her?

Taking a second to collect her thoughts and took a few calming breaths, Yuri looked down the road and saw the bar lights turning on, and lanterns being placed out their doors. 

Turning towards them with a high head, "perhaps a drink fill fix things."

–––––––––––––

The bar was quiet, as some are, while some are not. It wasn't the noisy karaoke bars that litter Japan, but a subtle old one. Yuri drank sake where the barkeep poured for the others there, she kept her eyes on her glass and her phone not paying any mind to any of the small looks she got from interested men. Getting drunk was her only concern tonight and no one else was going to interrupt that.

It was by her fifth drink that she vaguely remembered hearing the door opening and closing but even more unawares that the person settled himself next to her.

" _Kampai."_

The voice was less than enthusiastic and by the time she turned her attention him, it appeared he was already knocking back his second shot. Yuri's brow raised, and although she really wasn't sure if she wanted to know, for some reason she couldn't help but ask: "You alright?"

The scraggly man scoffed and asked for another from the bartender, "I can't say I'm sure." His voice was rough and gravelly, Yuri downed another glass of saké.

"Is that so? I'm sorry to hear." 

Maybe it was because it was a distraction from the problems she faced that she asked, or maybe it was because of the way he looked was a mirrored reflection of how she felt. Either way, she felt like hearing him out, this woeful stranger. Maybe the saké made her more sympathetic.

"Why is this world so screwed up?" He finally muttered, "why do ghouls even exist? Does God create such disgusting creatures to punish humanity for some unknown sin? Then if we are fortunate to not be devoured by demons, we work ourselves into the grave just for a sliver of respect."

It was her turn to laugh then, listening to the man in a drunk stooper was always amusing. But she'd be lying if she didn't admit that a cold shiver ran down her back. she wasn't a ghoul, but to her, that didn't mean anything. She was in the same business after all. "It _sounds_ like you're having a rough day." She smirked ruefully, "what is it you do?"

The man grunted but didn't answer her and Yuri noted it, an inkling in her mind gave off a small bell. Should she be worried? Why? He was only a drunkard, nothing she ought to be worried about...

But it felt he had already shaken her good drinking night, and killed the buzz she was searching for. He had already soured the atmosphere and Yuri suddenly wished to leave.

Finishing her bottle she laid the bills on the table and gathered her things. She looked at her conversing companion and nodded, he looked up and looked surprised.

"Leaving already. hm?'

"Yes, I've stayed out too late as it is... have a good night, hope you find your answers." She stood up from the barstool and began walking towards the door.

"Wait!" The man grabbed her arm, but let go as soon as he saw her face, "ah, sorry. I just... let me walk you home? It's dangerous out there at night."

"No, I'll be alright. Really. Thank you though." She turned to leave again but the man only got back up and began following her.

_Is this man being serious?!_

Yuri placed her hand on the doorknob before sharply turning her head to him, at first she thought to tell him off, but the moment she saw him all she could see was a miserable person just wanting to do something kind. She could take care of herself, that she knew, but it wasn't going to cost anything to spare the poor man's pride.

Besides, perhaps he would become the next entrée...

"Fine. If you must." She huffed and turned back around to leave through the door, bodyguard in tow.

____________________

The rainy season was approaching, Yuri could smell it in the air. It was her favorite time of year. It was likely there would be a shower tomorrow, she loved it when it rained, it made her feel at peace. The shuffling of feet reminded her of her new company and saw the man's steps weren't so staggered as they were before, it was possible he still was drunk, but his mind might be clearer enough to walk straighter now.

_It would be enough still._

Looking at him, Yuri felt sorry for him. His clothes had stains, his tie was crumbled and crooked along with his slacks, shirt, and blazer. It made her wonder what he _actually_ did for work. Was he a white-collar worker? It honestly didn't matter to her at this point, and soon it wouldn't for him either.

"It's not too far from here" she called out before taking another turn down a road, away from the bright lights on the main street. It was darker now, and she wondered if the alcohol dulled his senses enough to feel unawares.

"Hmm, right..." the man mumbled

_Yes, quite oblivious._

Yuri moved subtly, a shift here, a glance there, anything that was mundane and disarming. It was the smooth metal of her medical blade that was hidden beneath her clothing that excited her.

"You never told me what you did, you say you see death a lot. On the TV?" She reiterated, striking up a conversation again to ease his mind. Her voice pleasant and normal, anything to keep a facade flowing, she was good at that and it came with years of pretending––practicing her craft at deception––she was good at that too. Good at showing others what they wanted to see: it made things easier for them, and her.

"Hmm, nah. Well, yes and no." He slurred, "I'm a detective I guess..."

"...I see. That's unfortunate." The cold metal that teased her fingers only moments before. It was singing to her now, he was a detective? That didn't mean much to hear, he wasn't anyone important from what she could tell. Perhaps a drunk who had not a cent to his name, that's all she could see. His clothing was rumpled and unkempt, they didn't exactly scream high-class.

A nobody, exactly her type.

"It's not too much farther, just this way."

He nodded absently, following her lead like a dog on a leash, and she couldn't help but smile quietly. Yuri took a few turns, one left, two right, and soon they had left the sounds and lights of the busy main streets and now walked down a dark and quiet road. It was one of her many favorites: fewer houses, more alleyways.

"This is the way?" He asked, looking around.

"Yes, sorry for the distance, I should have told you it was a ways away." 

The man shrugged and muttered _no matter_ under his breath.

When it came to the last place she'd be taking him down, she knew his senses were picking up on the unsafe environment he was now in, and his eyes were scanning the area like a feral animal. He knew something was up, and still, she smiled on.

"Where are we, miss–"

Steps interrupted him as a tall silhouette turned the corner a few yards away and sauntered over towards them. A man in a bright blood wine red suit with leather loafers and––she could have sworn she was smelling Chanel Grand Extrait from where she stood.

"There you are, my lovely~!"

Tsukiyama. _Of course._

Flourishing around were his hands and arms as he spoke in his lilt voice that was both obnoxious and somehow alluring, and it was all Yuri could do not to roll her eyes and cover her face with her hand. How irritating...

"What are you doing here, _Tsukiyama_?"

"Oh my dear, I was looking all over for you! Why didn't you wait for me to take you home, you knew I was picking you up, _mon fluer_."

"...uh, your boyfriend Miss?"

"Absolutely no-"

" _Oui, monsieur!"_ Yuri's head spun so fast her hair whipped around, centering her eyes on Tsukiyama and casted her deadly scorn on him.

 _What the hell do you think you're doing!?_ Her gaze conveyed a clear message but all she got back was a smart wink, and it made her blood boil even more.

"Thank you for looking out for my love, but it's quite late and I can take it from here. Have a pleasant evening _monsieur_." Tsukiyama clapped the man on the shoulder even when the man sputtered incoherent words and unfinished sentences, all he did was continue to smile and turn him away in the opposite way. She was sure he had no idea where he was but kept on staggering away towards the lights of the main city road; at that moment all that mattered to her was getting a sizable bite out of the intruder.

"You better hope you have an acceptable excuse for stalking me, you insufferable, moronic, _pig!"_ She could feel the heat rising to her face from anger and– well... _frustration!_ " _Now!"_

There was a small twinge in the corner of his left eye when she insulted him, making her lips curl only slightly. Good, a pig he shall be then. 

" _Mon Amour,_ It's simple; I was stopping you from making a grave mistake." He wrapped his arm around her and to her surprise, she was right, the smell was coming from him. His lips neared her ears and his breath ticked her neck and his voice sent a shiver down her, all the way to her core. "That man was a dove."

Dread crept into her heart, and she felt her blood turn to ice. How did he know that? She didn't even pick up on that. _But she should have._ It made sense now that she thought about it, _a detective... the ghoul attacks._ How was she that stupid?! Even more so, how did he know what she was planning to do to him? _Did_ he know, or was he just playing her into his trap? "What are you talking about?" She kept her voice even, daring herself to reveal her secrets in her tone alone.

Tsukiyama chuckled smartly, "Of course, _of course."_ There was a gleam in his eye that made her feel utterly exposed and she didn't like it.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Trying to find the higher ground when actually she was clawing at the dirt on a cliff, How did she ever become so entangled with this man?! "He was only walking me home, and who cares if he was a CCG investigator, what's that matter to me?" She said defensively, but in reality, she was wrapping her mind with how close she was with bringing her downfall to her doorstep.

_If I had killed him, if he had died tonight, I would have been the last person seen with him at that bar. He'd be missed and accounted for by the CCG and it wouldn't have been long before they hunting me down and was at my house asking questions._

"It means, that I like God do not play with dice and do not believe in coincidence." He responded cryptically, and took her arm unwillingly and wrapped it around his as he steered her in the direction of her apartment. "

Oh, how she wanted to kill him and be done with it, he has become more and more of an unwanted imprint in her current daily life. "So you were watching me," she asked again. Her brow raised, but her question was more civil and inquisitive.

"And if I was?" His one upturned brow shot back at her, he was teasing her now, the prick. Though the banter and lightened her mood and she could tell he knew.

"I'd have to kill you." Yuri half-joked.

" _My..._ what a thing to say! But you forget treasure, I was just seen with you by that White Coat, surely you would have to come up with a strong alibi for my disappearance," He continued.

"Damn." She deadpanned as if it bothered her, but the small little curl on her lips spread just a little bit more and she knew Tsukiyama saw it too because his other hand began to touch and caress hers that rested over his bicep.

"I know, such a shame we cannot depose of whom we wish when we wish, _oui?"_

There was that devilish aura that came from his eyes and spread to his grin, a look that she knew so well and had had many times herself. It was that moment she knew that there were more alike than she thought. Whether it was merely in his mind or factual: death and murder were apart of this man, and she could finally see it in the raw under the darkness and dim streetlamps. "Yes, such a shame." She said in a daze, she wasn't sure if she was drunk from the realization of what she saw or the allure she felt that could finally come to accept. 

For so long she has said no. So long she's denied herself... _everything_ because of who she was and what she did. But what if this absurd man that drove her insane both mentally and sexually––what if she could have him? It would be the only thing that she'd allow herself to have. Companionship.

"Here we are, my dear."

 _What?_ She looked around and was at a complete loss on how they got there so quickly. _Did we walk the whole way here already?!_ "W-We are?"

 _"Oui."_

Such a snide look, "what's so funny?" Crossing her arms and side-eyeing him.

Tsukiyama could only chuckle and closed the distance between them pushing her back into the door of her building. Slowly placing his hand onto the door beside her face. "You." He answered frankly "you, who put up so many walls, spikes, and thorns; you who are so fierce––yet there you were–– for a blissful moment was lost and even at ease beside me. For the first time, I saw a glimpse of the side of you I've never seen before."

Yuri held her arms tighter, she felt so stupid for letting her defenses down so easily around someone like him. "Is that so, and what did you see?" 

The sly grin didn't vanish and it made the skin on her neck tingle "longing, desire, _want_." 

His was so dangerously close to the truth, and it scared her, what would happen if she gave in? What would become of her if she finally fed her desires and the carnal desires that swam just below the surface that threatened to swallow her whole, even now?

"You don't know a thing about me, Tsukiyama." She bit back, the only defense mechanism she had left and even then she feared her voice would shake. Yuri turned away abruptly to leave him on her doorstep in the cold–just like the last time; but he grabbed her wrist, yanking her back with her pressed flush against his chest, holding on to her fast.

"What makes you think I don't already have an idea?" The coy snake, slithering at his prey, waiting for the bait to be taken. That was what he reminded her of. His face slowly inching closer and closer to her and it made her body tingle with every movement as his hand went from her wrist to her forearm, and finally stopped at her slender neck.

In the wake of his touch, he left goosebumps and electricity that ignited her from inside but Yuri wasn't going to play his games as she resisted letting her breath shake as she drew it and when she yanked her arm back, he freely let her go.

"Because if you did, you wouldn't be here." She said finally, mentally trying to shake off what she felt from his touch and knowing that the more distance she got the better. "Good night, Tsukiyama. I don't want this–" it was then that he suddenly had her against the door, pinning her between him and the only escape left to her. There was a half a second pause that he stared at her as if he was debating something, but she soon found out when his lips pressed deeply into hers, what it was. Yuri fought against him, beating against his chest and even trying to pull his hair back to get him to release her but to her dismay, it had the exact opposite reaction she wanted as he ground hard against her making aware of his considerably hard erection.

At first, she did fight him, she didn't want this... she _needed_ to not want this. But it was only mere moments that that resolve crumbled and what was left was a weak moan spilling from her and into him. At one last feeble attempt of redeeming herself, Yuri attempted biting him, hard, until she could taste blood; but once again it seemed to only fuel his fire leaving the man panting with lust.

"You have no idea how long I've wished for you, _mon amour_." He said finally releasing her, eyes dilated and dark. Blood had smeared on to her from the corner of the left side of his mouth, Tsukiyama appeared to have found the sight quite appealing as the smallest hint of a smirk formed.

Yuri was gasping air from both the unexpected intrusion as well as the abrupt wash of pheromones overpowering her senses. "L-Let go of me-"

The laughter was airy and seeped in something foreboding. "You don't want that." His lips drew closer to her ear, they teased the rim as his breath heightened the feeling of him surrounding her. "You know that, though, don't you?" 

How sinful his voice was when it wasn't annoyingly obnoxious, she thought. How screwed was she, she thought.

"You know what you want, but you hold yourself back... let go." He whispered seductively, "let your body have what it yearns for–– I think you're accustomed to that, aren't you?" Tsukiyama's breath caressed her neck, just below her chin; he tasted her flesh with his tongue and teeth, nibbling and sucking till the spot was deliciously marked. It made any fight left in her fade away with no hopes of coming back.

She had lost to him.


	8. Theory of Entanglement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fire is catching and Yuri is beginning to see the smoke, she only prays it's not coming for her. While Tsukiyama is becoming more and more confused as to what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theory of Entanglement:  
> When you separate an entwined particle and you move both parts away from the other, even at opposite ends of the universe, if you alter or affect one, the other will be identically altered or affected.
> 
> \-----
> 
> Haha, so I know a lot of people probably think this whole story really has a lot to do with Hannibal as my inspiration; while that might be true a lesser scale, actually a lot of it comes from Sweeney Todd. Haha, forgot about that delightful movie? I was watching it the other day and thought: Ah yes, this is where it all started. I love it so much, and really I think subconsciously I made Yuri with parts of both Todd and Mrs. Lovette in her, but really, totally accidental. lol

_ Taking me under _

_ And into the dark  _

_ Got me under your spell, under your spell _

_ –– Under Your Spell by The Sweeplings _

* * *

  
  


The theory of the universe exploding into existence was part of romanticism. The thought that one second there was nothing and the next––everything; it was a concept that she felt correlated more with art and passion than the world of analytics and equations. For her, it was true because that was how she compared her night with Tsukiyama; when he explored her–– when his touches made her body feel alive. Yuri didn't want to admit how long it might have been before she had felt touches that burst her into being... it made her feel alive and pathetic simultaneously. Was she that touched-starved?

Wonderful piano hands skimmed her arms and grazed her breasts, they explored and discovered the valleys and hills of her beautiful flesh that produced shivers and gasps Yuri had long forgotten she was capable of. They found places that had been neglected–– places she, herself, perhaps had forgotten existed. Delicately he slid her cardigan down her shoulders, letting it pool around her feet exposing the slender neck he peppered with sweet kisses and trailing up to the shell and lobe of her right ear. Even if it was just a one-night stand (which she knew it couldn't be anything else)––even if this was the last of the man she'd ever see––she decided it'd be enough. She would be satisfied to be left feeling as great as she did at that moment; drowning in his darkness with no hope for air.

"Head Chef" 

Her head snapped up, "What?" Her voice was shamefully breathless, blinking back the memory of the night before, losing herself in front of her subordinates. Well, that's embarrassing...

"The food, Ma'am... it's burning." One of her chefs hesitantly said, while pointed to the frying pan, afraid to seem like he was correcting his terrifying boss.

Irritated, Yuri sighed. "Shit," and threw it out in the trash before starting over.

What was wrong with her? Last night had been amazing, no, it had been more than she ever expected. The night had left her blissfully aching and burning for more. Even long after he left... but allowing it to affect her while at work–– that never happened–– Inexcusably so. Tsukiyama had left just after she awoke in the morning, she supposed he was trying to make his clean getaway before she stirred but being the light sleeper she was, Yuri's eyes opened moments after she felt the bed move. He'd turned to her smiling even as she saw a slight shock on his face that she was up. _ "Go back to bed, my dear," _ he had said softly. He spoke like she hadn't caught him trying to sneak off at the first morning light, she begrudging noted, like even if he'd not return after he would have wanted to... 

_ "Or what?"  _ She asked, feeling like engaging in witty banter. To her surprise, he only chuckled and it made her breathe hitch; why was it suddenly everything about him that used to irritate her to no end, now was the most endearing thing she'd ever known? It was like the veil of ignorance and malice had been lifted and all that was left was a glimmer of truth that felt like clarity. Perhaps she could consider being a little nicer to him? 

Maybe.

_ "Or else you may just have to call into work today, lest you let everyone see how sore I would make you." _ His cheeky grin was for effect, but something told her it was no joke. Something told her he'd truly wreck her if given the opportunity.

But she did as he said, closing her eyes as he swept a hand around her hair and tucking it behind her ear sweetly. He didn't run the moment he was caught, he didn't seem to hate nor regret the previous night and that made her heart flutter more. Something she wasn't able to turn off even when she awoke the second time.

It was startling just how bothered she was becoming just from the memories alone; the man was worming his way into her and it was unsettling. 

"Chef" Another young man, Yuse this time came to her, "table four asked for you."

"I'm busy," Yuri said blandly, not even facing him. Did everyone think her time was up for grabs whenever they felt like it? Did she  _ not _ have a business to run?

"Ma'am... he said he wanted to ask a few questions––about Hanako."

Hanako. Ah. The girl who worked for her only 2 weeks before that infuriating mouth of hers got herself killed and stuffed into a freezer. No one had come to her about the matter, after all, she had been the last victim over a month ago and was left in the next town over by the bank. Also, she was only the employer, not someone who took account of the girl's every move outside of work. Still, Yuri couldn't help the prickle she felt settle over the back of her neck. "Tell him I'll be there in a moment," she said finally.

With Yuse gone, she asked for someone else to take over the food preparations for her while she cleaned her hands and fixed her appearance, things that helped delay the inevitable. But once she appeared at table four, the dread only grew.

It was the man she'd nearly killed last night. The Dove.

"Hello–"

"O-oh, you're the restaurant owner?! I never expected we'd meet again or even so soon!" The man was jollier than she would have expected, "I see you got home safely after all then," He laughed, amazed he even remembered the evening with how intoxicated he was, she nodded numbly.

"Yes, I did..." She answered, keeping her answers short and without idle chatter.

"That's good to hear, I apologize about last night I suppose I had a bit more than I thought, but it's a good thing your boyfriend showed up, right?" He was making small talk with her before the real questions he wanted to ask, and she couldn't figure out why. Was it to disarm her? To lower her guard, but she would have to be a suspect for that to be the case and she was certain that nothing could be linked tracing back to her aside from her employment. Even that worried her when the initial act had been done, one of the many reasons why breaking one of her own rules upset her days later after evaluating her actions. But she had hoped it was something that'd be overlooked... and it had, until perhaps now.

"I'm sorry, but there was something you wanted to ask me, sir?" He was starting to grate on her nerves, dancing around the subject was one of the many things she couldn't stand.

"Oh, yes of course. Again, my apologies... would you have somewhere private where we could speak? I  _ am _ on official duty, you see." Yes, she could. No one could mistake the signature white raincoat, but the missing briefcase wasn't lost on her. It meant while on the low chance she could be seen as a suspect, he did not consider the possibility she could be a ghoul which was good.

"Yes, I do. Come with me Mr.––"

"Yamasuwa. Yamasuwa Hiro, pleased to meet you."

"Miyoushi. Alright, Mr. Yamasuwa, come with me."

Once they were in her office, the one floor above the dining area, she poured them both coffee and sat in her black leather chair behind her desk while he sat in one of the two plain chairs. they were uncomfortable, but basic without plush cushions added or armrests–– they were meant so that they gave the impression that the one sitting in them would know the situation they were in if ever called in.

"Now then, Mr. Yamasuwa––what are your questions?" She asked, before taking a sip from her mug.

Clearing his thought, Hiro began "right." He mumbled and pulled out his small notepad and thumbed through some shabby pages that were well worn. "You had an employee that was unfortunately murdered and found by the riverbank 10 miles west from here."

"Yes, I heard on the news, it was very tragic." She stated plainly, took a drink, and crossed her legs

"It was... No one came to you though? An official didn't personally notify you of your missing employee?" He asked his eyebrow rose.

"Why would they? I fired her five days before I saw the news coverage on the television. I had no idea she had met such a fate." 

"She was let go? May I ask for what reason?" 

"Incompetence." Yuri shot back icily, she wasn't going to play the game of a sympathetic boss even to help her cover. She owed that woman nothing and he had no inclination that she would have.

"...I see..." He wrote a few lines down on his pad and faced her again, his eyes had a weird look in them. "So no disagreements or arguments then, Ms. Miyoushi?" 

"Of course there were, I run this establishment, not some spineless welp with an expectation less than perfection. Those who fail to strive to meet that get weeded out." Yuri crossed her hands over her knees, she steeled her gaze as her back straightened against her chair. the image of which her words had rung true to him.

"Yes... I can see that. A hard taskmaster, then?"

"Very." She sighed, frustration began to set in as the man's guessing game continued. "You forget that my business is the newest up and rising critically acclaimed restaurant, I have no time to waste on people who cannot follow orders or manage the workload. That is all." The look of curiosity perhaps diminished a little, but it was still prevalent in Hiro's eyes, one she'd rather not have at all, but she'd refute the notion she'd lie about her work and how she managed it as well as she did. She prided herself on how much she’d accomplished without accepting any compromises.

"Yes, that will be all, Ms. Miyoushi. Thank you for your time and your honesty, it's sometimes refreshing in this line of work." He stretched his hand out towards her and it hung there for a moment before she took it.

"Not at all, anything I can do to help." In place of the hardened Ice Queen persona, she was seconds ago, her voice had softened just to placate the invisible questions the man still might have had about her. She knew she could only display the coldness of herself in a limited degree before people began to wonder if she was capable of something more.

And it had seemed she was right, the friendliness returned and a small smile was offered to her. "Thank you, perhaps we'd find ourselves in the same bar one day?" He laughed at his joke, she did not. His laugh whittled down into awkwardness.

"Have a good day, Mr. Yamasuwa and be safe out there." She could see there was more he wanted to ask, but Yuri swung the door open and it kept Hiro’s bumbling words to a halt once he realized he had nothing more to say, he bowed respectfully and walked out passed the threshold with the door following close behind.

The door shut with a harsh click, but at least it wasn't slammed. Yuri just couldn't find time to breathe, the situation had caught her off guard, although in the 19 years of living this life it hadn't been the first time she'd been suspected; it was easier as a child. In the past, in her earlier years, being the tender age of 12 was all the cover she needed––something she wished she could still have today... But as she got older that shtick wasn't going to fly anymore and had to adjust her methods.

As an adult, obscurity became her only ally and a low profile was the only way to keep herself undetected when it came to the list of her growing victims. This had invariably been her life, and she grew to adapt to the changes. No matter how difficult; and she wasn't going to change now––even if she wanted to, she couldn't.

There was no turning back from this path, even if it wasn't one she chose for herself.

Yuri went back to her desk and filed through some of the growing paperwork, the piles had gotten quite high, more than she'd like. Shuffling through them made her feel exhausted without even reading them, she just couldn't shake the uneasiness she felt after her visitor, would she be seeing more of him? She really hoped not; she'd have to be more cautious in her activities in the future–– she also would have to make sure to keep her pattern consistent lest they suspect somehow or another something had changed.

Consistency. That was the key.

Instead, her thoughts retreated to the memory of her night with Tsukiyama, and her body hummed all over again.  _ Oh for crying-out-loud, _ Yuri slammed her hand down. "What the hell is wrong with me," the chef groaned.

It was 10:30 pm when she took out her keys and locked her office, most of the staff had already left and the exhaustion and heavy eyelids showed more than she cared for, she was thankful most of the staff were either too busy cleaning and preparing to close the kitchen up.

It was trivial, of course, but it meant more than people knew that she maintained a strong front––that it appeared she had no weakness, especially to her underlings. That was one of the three things she hated most: truancy, disrespect, and weakness. She couldn't allow them to see anything less than the persona she exhibited. 

Upon entering the kitchens, she saw the crew winding down with the cleanup but helped here and there to get things done anyway. She checked her supplies, saw to the sanitation, and watched the crowd dwindle till the floor was nearly empty. It wasn't lost on her that  _ his _ table had been occupied by someone else––a couple. She didn't know why it bothered her or that she noticed, it wasn't like that was his table... he didn't  _ own _ it, but still, she felt bitter that those strangers occupied the space instead of Tsukiyama. Was the routine she missed, because for the last week and a half it had been a routine...  _ they're _ routine

"Head Chef, the dishes are all that's left, is there anything else you need me to do?" Harada smelt of sweat and grease and she was proud of his hard work today; he wasn't where he needed to be yet, but he had made significant improvements.

"No, you've done well today, and I will take inventory before locking everything up. There's only one table left, see to it and clean the tables." She said dismissively, while she went to the freezer and began the inventory. She always handled this herself instead of tasking it with anyone else. It was unusual to the others particularly because of the additional container tabled with fake cation duct tape around it; in orientation, every person is warned never to open it under strict fear of immediate termination (of course the only threat they were aware of). 

Every night she would check the "supplies" before she'd have to go out and hunt again, like tonight. "Figures... and right after a Dove comes poking around," she huffs. Oh well, it wasn't like it had stopped her before. How long will this keep up, though, when will she be apprehended and punished? She knew one day it would come, her judgment day. And every day she was ready for it, as much as she lived this life without hesitance, Yuri knew too it was what she deserved. At least she was willing to face her fate instead of believing a lie as others did, that they were untouchable –– immortal. No, just like the certainty of what she was, was real, there existed the certainty of what awaited her at the end.

An hour later Yuri emerged from the coolers and met Harada finishing up, "Alright, Harada " With a 'yes ma'am' she left out the back door. The night was crisp with the wind a little on the chilly side, exactly how she liked it. It felt like a good summer night, a good night for people to be out enjoying the weather...

––––––––––––

"It smells like rain," Tsukiyama hummed in agreement, inhaling deeply, eyes rolled back and savoring the memory of the last time he had walked a night just like this one.

"Yes, wonderful isn't it?" Kanae walked beside him, the light of the beautiful moon shining on them both, the roses had never looked more divine... they reminded him of her, how the moon only enhanced what was already known to be true. Yuri was divine; just like a rose soaking in the moonlight. 

"What are you thinking about, Master?" Kanae stopped observing his prized garden and turned to his cousin. "I know what it means when you come so late at night to see the roses... what's on your mind?" His voice was soft, it carried over to Shuu through the wind and it made him smile, his cousin was such a tender soul. He loved him dearly for it. As for his thoughts, they were of her. Almost always, and constantly they replayed the shape of her body, her touch, her scent, and of her taste... they plagued him– it was glorious.

"I feel they find me when I feel lost, Kanae..."

"And why are you lost, Master," he asked, drawing nearer to the heir. Shuu could see the confusion in his eyes, his cousin did not pose a ridiculous question––why was he lost? He knew why, it was because of  _ her; _ she made him question himself, question everything that he thought made him the perfect ghoul who did not waver on what he wanted. Shuu Tsukiyama did not turn around and second guess himself. He did not!

And it was a human that did this, a  _ human _ . 

"'What is it about her' I find myself asking almost daily, and still to this moment, I am no closer to the answer than I was when I first saw her." Shuu fumed, a rhetorical question obviously, he knew Kanae couldn't provide the answers he so vehemently sought for but he just couldn't keep it in any longer, and when Kanae followed him out to his favorite place, Tsukiyama welcomed the company. "I wonder, do I affect her, as she affects me? Does she feel what I feel _because_ I feel it..." he spoke cryptically.

"'Her', sir? That restaurant owner?" 

"The very same, yes." Tsukiyama picked a flower and brushed it against his lips, "I met her three months prior, you know?" He chuckled, "she begged me to kill her –– to eat her! She didn't know it was me when we met again, but I could never forget her, now we are locked into a delightful dance. I don't want it to end, Kanae; truly I don't, and how unlike me is that?" He looked at his cousin ruefully, sardonically,  _ pitifully _ . His smile was estranged and to his cousin, Kanae, his eyes looked so  _ lost. "...How unlike me" _ he breathed.

Kanae's expression soured, ‘ _ Verrotte in der Hölle…’ _

The German hated her. He hated her the first time he realized that Master Shuu had been going more and more to that rat-infested pit that woman called a  _ restaurant. _ When he realized Shuu had been skipping his social circles and his own establishment nearly nightly, word was beginning to travel about his master, and not in his favor, either. Kanae didn't like it at all! 

He hadn't killed her yet, he hadn't even attempted since this alleged _ first time, _ and Kanae was beginning to worry. He knew that this woman wasn't worthy of his master's time, she could be snapped like a twig, and in a blink of an eye, seem like she never had lived in the first place.  _ It'd be so easy... _ and therefore he knew Shuu couldn't possibly acknowledge her existence as more than a prime rib.

_ Diese fette sauz! _

Kanae watched the man he was so close to, the man who he admired, and who he  _ loved, _ resemble nothing more than a shadow of the glory he used to be. He  _ hated it!  _ He had taken his master to this woman time and time again when he had asked to go to this...  _ Suiren  _ and every time he did, there was a pit in his stomach. This woman had only made him worse, his master was becoming sick, and he only prayed it wasn't sickness of the heart.

Not with  _ her. _

"Why don't you go out, Master Shuu, why not go and eat, I will take you to  _ The Restaurant _ , it might help clear your head?"  _ His _ restaurant, not  _ hers,  _ he thought darkly.

He chuckled, "thank you Kanae but I don't think I feel up to it... but perhaps a walk would do me a bit of good like you said, maybe a midnight stroll in the city?" Shuu looked up and smiled at the moon, it shined so brightly––so beautifully––just like his precious Yuri...

"Kanae... do you know about the Theory of Entanglement?"


	9. Only By Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsukiyama gains a prize, in more ways than one.
> 
> Your comments mean so much, please let me know you enjoy the story/chapter, or hate it. It all still matters to me. Love you all. This one is a little something for the long wait. ;)

The sun was long gone, and with the smell of rain drifting in the air, it most likely would rain overnight. And Tsukiyama, without an umbrella, held the thin glossy photo in his hand. To his credit, it wasn't blackmailing material. He looked at it like he wanted it mounted, but if necessary, he regrettably would use it as a weapon; only if absolutely necessary. His Yuri had thorns, and perhaps they'd have to be clipped to claim her finally. But they were too lovely...

"Thank you, Chie, this is wonderful."

"So, where's my payment?" She ignored his praise, cutting straight to the point, Tsukiyama clicked his tongue in displeasure. He was always one for breathing in and savoring the taste of victory (much like his wine); Tsukiyama had never favored his little mouse's tactless disposition. He sighed, "Yes, yes, anything your greedy heart desires, all the confections for one evening at your disposal."

Chie hummed, delighted, "good." Turning her DLSR to the viewfinder to spare herself of the sickeningly fervid expression on Tsukiyama's face– she'd already gotten a photo of that. "You had me follow her just for a picture of her gutting someone? Honestly, I can't say I'm surprised, but still–– why haven't you eaten her yet, she all that great?"

Ten minutes into his walk, Chie, his little photo-centric friend, had the unusual talent of finding him where-ever he was. She popped her little mouse-like head out from behind him—knowing full well that he was aware of her following him two blocks back. He had a habit of humoring her childish antics. After his first date with his _Treasure_ , he gave her the task of getting something he long desired, a picture amidst all her splendor. And he wasn't disappointed—a grotesque image of her cleaving out remains of a body. Blood, though molded with the darkness of the dimly lit alley, created a succulent pool around her knees and covered her victim. Shadow and blood though hard to see from the lack of a flash, only left his mind to fill in the gaps. 

The lone streetlamp near her created an angelic halo: heaven and hell in unison. 

The photo he wanted for personal reasons, but the thoughts played in his mind of playing a little game with his _récieux trésor._ Over the last few days and hours, he had accumulated a trove of pet names he loved to shower upon his Yuri if only locked within his mind. The said photo was a macabre masterpiece–– shadows, death, and beauty swaying in an elegant waltz he wished he was a part of. Tsukiyama wondered if she'd dance with him one night? Each night the urge he had for her morphed and created a whole new emotion that only confused him further. He no longer knew if he wanted to consume her, make her his pet, or... make her his lover?

And the more he thought of the latter, the more it enraged him and fueled the lust that no matter what form it came in, he knew he had to have her: whatever the outcome.

"Yes. Yes, she is..."

"You know, that was tonight."

"What?" He looked at Chie, confused.

"That picture, down an alley six blocks north of us. I had just gotten it developed before I headed to your house, but when I saw you out and about." She explained, frankly and shrugged. 

Tsukiyama's astonishment was visible, and it caused Chie to snap another picture. "This was tonight?!" Shaking the image repeatedly as he spoke in disbelief, even as she nodded. His fingers trembled with excitement, “was she still there when you left? Can you take me, Little Mouse?" A rhetorical question, of course. She could––she would–– He could barely contain the eagerness.

"Hmm..." Chie placed a finger on her chin, pretending to think it over, she was mocking him, Tsukiyama knew what she wanted.

"Uhg, _yes,_ _Little Mouse_ (rodent) any sweets you want for a week. Happy?" Tsukiyama snapped, his patience had been at its end with a hand on his hip, (the one that wasn't grasping the flimsy paper). He hoped he hadn't damaged it in his enthusiasm.

"Yup!" Her face lit up instantly after her little hustle, “right this way!" Chie took charge as an an-all-important tour guide, hand in the air as if holding a flag and leading her one-person tour group.

You know, it wasn't the first time Tsukiyama wondered if her age ever got mistaken more than it ought to...

——

_1 hour previous_

"I know, I know," Yuri's voice cooed sweetly. 

Blood pooled around her knees, seeping into her black pants from the multiple stab wounds to the man's gut. Her hand was over his mouth to keep the noise to a minimum. However, the cacophony of the city did enough to mask his whimpering. Being well versed in anatomy, Yuri was careful not to puncture the stomach; the consequences would be a wicked stench that she abhorred. 

With the blade extracted, his wounds flowed freely, and the dying man had his head rested on her lap as she petted his dirty hair (from blood and filth) as if he was nothing more than a pathetic bird. Words were unattainable; he gasped like a fish out of water, and Yuri found it funny it counteracted her analogy. "It'll be alright; you'll be fine now." She stifled his last breath as his eyes stilled, and the light was gone, she smiled sweetly till the end.

It was out of mercy that she did so, not malice.

It was the least she could do for him, farewell him into oblivion. She killed, yes, but not always malevolently. "There, see? All better... no more pain." Yuri kissed his forehead and closed his eyes, a kiss from Death.

The middle-aged man had lovely dark eyes, very Japanese. Maybe they were what made her choose him; she wanted him for a moment–– it was always nice to hold them while they died and grow cold. Morbid? Yes. But it was her favorite part.

Yuri liked knowing she was the last thing they saw; it made her feel loved. It wasn't rational, and it wasn't explainable to others––but they took her with them when they left. And that felt special. The trade wasn't a fair one, she knew it. But all she did was take, never giving; she couldn't change that.

It was after this that Yuri's work truly began. The hand that held the scalpel cut into his chest with precision like a skilled butcher, knowing exactly what she wanted and where to get it. The lungs and liver were her favorites; the heart was a comfortable fifth. She hated the work involved in breaking the ribcage; it was just annoying. The muscle also made recipes a bit more complicated with the toughness, but stuffed, it was marvelous. So she did it anyway.

She saw everything in her mind so perfectly; the deranged scene diminished none of it. Every part of the man would go to making the most delicious entreés. She was sure he would be thankful he wouldn’t go to waste.

Resting back on her legs as she wiped the sweat off her brow. It wasn't exactly hot out, but being always alert was stressful while working as swiftly as she could, which made the tension high for her. It was in the middle of placing the post-beating organ into an opaque white icebox when she thought she heard a _snap._ Her surgical blade clattered onto the pavement. The _cling_ echoed far louder than she expected and it made her jump. She held her breath, waiting for another sound–– something to help her pinpoint the location. Someone was here; it sounded like an electronic click and that terrified her... it sounded like a camera.

She did a rush job and cleaned up, it was number one of the _what you don’t do during murder,_ but she couldn’t bring herself to care outside of ‘ _I need to get out of here, now’_ mindset. She got everything together and left the bloody carcass behind in a heaping pool of blood––the face intact, and fled.

——

_Now_

"Over here."

Tsukiyama walked briskly behind Hori as they turned down the dark and dank alley. One street lamp at the end served as the only light source, and he prayed the body hadn't been chanced upon already.

"This is it," she pipped, as if she was just commenting on the weather, and not the bloody murder scene that sat at their feet.

"I can see that, Hori." Tsukiyama rolled his eyes, but in actuality, he felt like he was drunk from the visual and the scents. _Such a sweet euphoria..._ She did _this?!_ The cut to the skin was clean a line down the middle, but the rib cage was bashed in, not unlike a carved pumpkin with broken bits of bone lying in the pulp and sinew. The insides scooped out, and the bloody remains disregarded and left to dry. He had never seen Yuri's work before now; however, lately, he'd become fixated on the recent "bazaar ghoul" attacks circulating in the community. Going over what he'd heard from the regulars at his _Restaurant_ , and what he found online on his own, something told him this was not usual for his artisan.

Nearly in all cases, the victim's identity was stripped and defaced– this was far from clean. It was haphazard, messy.

"Hori, did she see you, by chance?" Tsukiyama asked, as he sat on his haunches and absently gazed at the man's voided expression. Turning his head this way and that––admiring the artwork.

"No, why?"

He hummed, "I think our dearest here may have gotten spooked" and ran before finishing the job. Little spots of blood on the pavement trailed a path leaving the scene, very amateur for a human killer, but he'd like to think it wasn't a norm for his love. He knew she was smarter than that, how else had she avoided the authorities for so long? No, this was his fault. He sent Chie after her, so by extension, he was to blame for her mishap. So, as a gentleman, of course he'd clean this up. "I suppose it can't be helped; we _are_ the ones at fault here, so disposing of the remains should be on us." Tsukiyama's notorious singsong dramatics returned as he shrugged his shoulders.

" _We?_ "

"Naturally, I'm talking about the cleanup crew. I am not in the mood to have my clothing sent to the dry cleaner right now––and yes, _we._ Your infernal camera interrupted Ms. Miyoushi, and so she fled." He spoke in your defense, and to be honest, even at the cost of such a beautiful photo, he _did_ feel guilty. It wasn't his intent to cause any unwanted distraught amid her work. "We should take some responsibility for this."

"You have a cleanup crew?!" He breathed through his nose and rolled his eyes; Of course, she'd ignore every other word he said.

"It's rare that I call them or even need one, but yes, I do." Pulling out his phone and pressing the speed dial #2. #1 was Papa. "Yes, table for one, at–" he told them the street, junctions, and the exact location. It goes without saying that his family is very wealthy, and not all Cleaners were ghouls, but the Cleaners serviced both mobsters _and_ ghouls, who didn't mind paying a bit more, of course. And sometimes the mobsters _were_ ghouls; he knew a few of the Yakuza that frequented his lovely establishment from time to time.

They even provided some of the evening entertainment as well; you'd say a little _pro quid quo_. Some of the time, that was where the dining and entertainment came from; the mafia would call him up for a request, and he'd have them picked up and prepared. That's how he got the number for the service a while back, a good friend of his offered little tip for his troubles.

"Alright, they shouldn't be long. I can call Kanae to give you a lift home if you'd like, it's around that time of night, after all." Chie was his friend, even if they didn't always act like it, so he liked to make sure she was out of harm's way, even though she had no self-preservation.

"Nah, I'll be fine. Besides, I wanted to get a Crepè on the way home. Welp, have fun with the oozing corpse~!"

 _That child._ Now that he was alone, what did he do till the mess was taken care of? The smartest thing would be to hide in the shadows, just in case someone did stumble upon this poor soul, but he didn't feel too afraid of that. The good thing was that at least Yuri chose an excellent part of the district that didn't see a lot of ghoul activity. Whether that was by accidental or on purpose, he had no idea. 

Tsukiyama looked at his hundred-thousand dollar platinum Rolex, it was 11:05 pm, they should be here any time now. Glancing at the delicious macabre presented before him, he shrugged.

He _was_ feeling a bit peckish.

______

_  
Shit, shit, shit..._

What was she going to do? What if it was a reporter or a random person with a cellphone? Would she see her silhouette on a website shared by thousands? Would the police or CCG come first?

She was so screwed.

"Oh, God. What am I going to do if there's hard evidence on me floating around?" Yuri tried not to match her speed limit with her heartbeats, but the panic was rising every time she thought about who could have seen her. She only caught a glimpse of the figure dipping back behind the corner, nothing more. She couldn't see the color of their hair or their clothing. She had nothing.

A sinking feeling settled in her stomach that caused her to start shaking. The anxiety made bile rise even as she put her head over her forearms. In all her years, she's never been photographed in the act before. If- no, when, this got out, it'll be her end.

During the middle of her spiraling panic attack, there were two knocks from her door that startled her. Yuri sat cemented in her barstool at her kitchen table, too afraid to move a muscle. She’s been had." 

Unable to move; it was then that she realized she was holding her breath. 

_Breathe, Yuri. It could be anyone..._

"Hello~? _Mademoiselle_ Yuri, are you home?"

_...Anyone, but him!_

Maybe if she did say anything, if she kept quiet and didn't make any sounds, he'd think she was out? 

She held her breath again. 

_Knock, knock_

_Ah!_ She buried her head further into her arm. _Just ignore him, he'll go away... just ignore––_

_-Ring!-_

Wha?! The sudden vibrating ring coming from her cellphone resting on the marble startled her enough gasp. "What the- who could be-" _Shuu Tsukiyama_ , clearly printed on her Caller ID. She never called him, how did he have her number?! Yuri's hands shook even more as they slowly went to grab for the device; she watched it ring two more seconds before finally answering. "...Hello?"

" _Mon Dieu, ma douce..._ I know you're home! Love, open up, would you?"

The sweet, sultry tone was undeniable, and even before she answered, Yuri knew what she was in for, "how did you get my number?" She shot back without hesitation.

"You know... you really should put a better passcode on your phone, the house number of the _Suiren,_ it's a bit too easy if you ask me, _mon cheriè."_

The smug freak broke into her phone!

"Leave my house now! I don't have time for you right now." She didn't relent; she had more significant problems to deal with right now, and she didn't need him in her head. A pitiful sigh drifted from the other end, and she knew he was going to pull something.

"Ah~, such a shame... I didn't want it to come to this, but I felt you'd be _highly_ interested in what I had to show you– but I guess not."

Ice water ran through her veins, and she couldn't stop the shiver from running up her neck. "W-what are you blabbering about?" It couldn't have been him, could it? Was he _spying_ on her? Did he know?!

"Oh... well, I'd love to tell you all about it over a lovely cup of coffee, my love?" 

The prick!

"Ahg, fine!" She marched over to the door and pulled it open with fury, causing a gust of wind to blow at their hair. "What do you want, Tsukiyama?" She growled, forgetting she still had the phone pressed to her ear.

He chucked, she knew he loved getting a rise out of her. She watched him put his phone away, and she did the same. "I wanted to see you, is that so much of a crime, my love?"

"I'm not your ‘love’."

He passed her, ignoring her comment completely. "You know, I failed to say so the other night, but your home is very quaint, isn't it? Very minimalistic."

"I don't like having a lot.“

"A lot of unnecessary." A statement, not a question. He was playing at something.

"Something like that..." Yuri watched him circle her apartment as if he was appraising it and coming up disappointed. "What do you want, Tsukiyama?" She reiterated, returning his attention back onto her. 

"Coffee, first?" He asked, his voice never losing its coyness.

She finally gave in as she mentally groaned and breathed out her nose, "fine. One and then you spout whatever the hell you're on about, then you leave. Deal?"

"Deal!"

She began to brew their cups when a single question set her back on ice. "How curious, what's in the box, _mon cheriè?"_

Shit, she forgot about the box holding organs on rocks just sitting on the counter! "Nothing; just nothing." She turned around too quickly, not caring how suspicious it looked, and rushed over to where he was about to open the lid, and slammed her hand down on the top. "Just... fish. From the market." 

" _Really?_ I wasn't aware the fish market was open this late at night? Especially since you have to take the ferry over to get to it." *****

"N-no, it-it was earlier, I just forgot about it. That's all." Tsukiyama didn't fight her when she yanked the container away and quickly shoved it into the refrigerator. Still, his smile that was beginning to grate on her nerves didn't falter. "What. Do. You. Want. Tsukiyama?"

His fingers began to dance on her counter, drumming along as he hummed and sauntered around, closing in on her from the other side. "I want many things, I'm afraid... I'm very greedy."

"You're privileged. And you don't know the meaning of no, so yes, I would agree." She held her ground, even at the smell of his cologne that began to intoxicate her. He pursed his lips and waved his head from side to side, as he debated her words.

"Perhaps that may hold some truth, but I like to think I know the meaning of that word where it counts..." He was closer now, close enough that his arms boxed her in again, like when he trapped her at her door. " _When it counts._ " Those lips that made her weak grew to tease her.

If asked, she would never admit that she longed for a repeat of their night, and she'd _never_ let him have the satisfaction of admitting it _._ "And if I told you no that night?"

"I'd know you'd be lying..." He chuckled, his left hand rose, caressing her petit jawline, and tracing it to her chin, and up to her lips where his thumb outlined it as if he'd painted them himself. "I'd know it would get you off to tell me no, even as I kept going, drawing yet another from you." His words made her breath hot, even as she tried to keep her heart calm. The pool that settled within her made her shift her legs as she pushed herself back as far as she could into the kitchen corner, which was only a few inches from where she was. "I'd know your desires are darker than you let on, that we swim in the same dark pool. You and I are not very different, and you seem to be the only one blind to it."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Yet another laugh, he loved mocking her it seemed. Her face scrunched, and anger flared. "Stop patronizing me."

"My apologies, I just... perhaps that isn't quite right," He pursed his lips and bobbed his head side to side, debating his incorrectness. "You see it, but ignore it. You pretend it doesn't exist, but I can see in your eyes; you know what it is that draws us towards one another, it scares you." Tsukiyama advanced again, removing the gap she tried to create, "and you like that." He concluded, his sinful voice made her body sing; everything he said was right. 

It was all true, but could she let him know what made her tick? 

"Well... how'd I do?" 

Could she let him win this one?

She crossed her arms defensively, "you don't know anything about me. You know nothing."

Tsukiyama's fingers slipped into the inside sleeve of his suit jacket. They thumbed the photograph that he intended to unveil her with finally, but it didn't seem the time now.

“Tell me why you're here, Tsukiyama, or I call the police.” It was an empty threat, but he didn’t know that, did he?

"Tsk, again with that line?" Ignoring her completely, his monologue wasn’t going to be deterred. "I think I know you better than you realize. Or, refuse to accept." He didn't wait for a response, his hand that wandered about her soft skin, trailing his nails across it, and entangling the other into her dark hair with a firm grip and brought her lips to his. "I can't tell you how I've longed to taste your lips again… and to answer your question, I want to take you out to dinner. My way." 

“And why would I do that?” She shot back, trying to avoid how his body heat and his smell affected her.

“Well, I guess you’ll never know and you will sit here anxiously. Wondering what might happen… if only you’d known-“ he left the thought hanging, letting fear invade her for what he could possibly have.

But she was too afraid to ask. He was playing her and she wasn’t going to give herself away like an idiot amateur. But it didn’t seem to matter that much or what foreboding doom her mind conjured up because in a split second his lips was over hers, succulently tasting her with his tongue running over her flavored lip gloss.

At first, she fought against him. Her hands flew against his chest while she tried retracting his kiss, but it only made him moan, his body responded to it and melded into her more; Yuri felt the outlining of his desire straining in his slacks. The sick freak was getting off from this, but what was worse was so was she... his verbal and physical responses to her resistance, only made her arousal grow too. He had been right– their depravity was the same. And as his mouth traveled down, he suckled at her neck, her eyes closed with an open gasp, and she briefly wondered why she resisted.

"That's it. Let it consume you. That dark pool, let it engulf you. It is just as I said; you yearn for this just as much as I do. You seek out what lies within us both...birthed differently, yet from a conjointed source. Both are we not accepted, yet together, we could belong." Cryptically Tsukiyama's words flowed over her, much like his hands did as they whispered them against her skin. Grazing Yuri's breast over her clothing, he searched for their peaks through her layers, feeling them pimple up to his touch while the other moved farther south.

"Wha-what are you talking about?" She breathed; in her haze, she really had no idea what he was saying or what he meant. What did he mean, 'birthed differently'?

"You will know soon enough, Precious... I promise." He lowered himself to capture her lips, and the desperate moan that escaped her was startling. Ashamed of the evidence of her attraction, and the smirk she felt form in their kiss made the heat rise to her cheeks and tops of her ears, painting them red. He was enjoying making a fool out of her, she could tell––but at the moment, it felt too good to stop.

Coffee seeped in the background that no longer held interest for them, and somewhere in the middle of their fevered embrace, she ended up on top of the counter, lips locked. Buttons parted, bra tucked under, and her breasts spilled out for Tsukiyama's pleasure. Under his administrations, her nipples were taut and firm, leaving her breathless and inching her hand to her core. The wet sounds of him sucking and the pop when he released her areola had his young chef arching into him, with her hand laced into his hair. 

Yuri didn't understand how they got this point or where this sudden urge came from for them to be in this situation; her mind felt foggy. One minute they were talking about... something, and the next––this! But the heat inside her only continued to build. She swore it was what urged the hand not gripping Tsukiyama's lavender hair closer to the hem of her pants, sneaking her dainty fingers into her underwear.

"Did I say you could do that?" He tutted as he swatted her hand away, making her whimper. "I'm beginning to see patience isn't a virtue for you, my dear." A retort played on her tongue, but he replaced his hands where hers were, stopping her in her tracks. "But I think that's what I like about you," his smile twitched upward. 

Yuri's face scrunched in a blissful sigh, her kissable lips formed a perfect "O" as her breathing increased and her chest moved up to him. He loved it. He loved everything about this moment, and he took great joy in watching the fluid movement of her chest that kept time with his teasing. Her slit was slick and begged for his attention; greedily she took in his digits, Tsukiyama marveled how tight she was with only two. Whole constellations wished they could shine and captivate as well as this woman did.

Looking down at the split zipper and her hips thrusting against his fingers as he teased her was bliss. She wanted him to go faster, he could tell. But he denied her the satisfaction––he enjoyed the game too much to let her have her end. Yet. "Stop that, or this is all you'll get, _cheriè,_ " Tsukiyama warned just as his fingers stopped altogether.

Her whine was honey to him, and he wanted more; her reluctant obedience was the fuel running the blood to his groin. _De si beaux cadeaux, tu me donnes..._ "Lie on you back, love." She followed his command, and he kissed her for it—a reward. 

Like a feast presented at the dinner table meant for many, but sprawled out only for him––perfection. His mouth watered, and his hungry eyes devoured every part of her, knowing soon his mouth would follow. To think he was going to snuff out her light. Now– now it was no longer a viable option for him. It wasn't possible now that he'd seen how exquisite the height of her beauty was. Watching her eyes darken from arousal and need, her lips slightly parted from his attentions. 

He had his doubts at first, after their first night, but now all there was, was clarity.

His hands went to her waistline, unbuttoning and pulling the slacks' zipper, slowly pulling them down with her legs dangling from the counter. He kept their eyes locked through the whole motion, watching her breathe quicken with satisfaction. "My... how delectable you look. I cannot tell you how many times I thought about having you again in one day alone, my sweet." He complimented her, and he relished her soft blush; it was the cherry on the cake, had she has thought of this too? "Tell me. The other night, you were so susceptible to me... so fast to come––surely I wasn't your first?" He teased.

She laughed through her nose, "hardly. I-It's just been a long time..." the hitch in her voice came from the movement of his articulate fingers speeding up. Her blush deepened, with her wanton moan. Ah––she was embarrassed. How charming.

Tsukiyama chuckled, "rest assure, something I intend to remedy." He removed his fingers from her, the provocative sound made by her wetness was music to his ears and savored by his mouth. Licking her essence off of them like an appetizer served to him as he kept his eyes trained on her. He enjoyed the view of her pupils dilated and blown as she watched him watch her– his Yuri was enjoying his love of exhibition. Good.

Once clean, he bent over her and placed chaste kisses over her navel before settling in her curls' nest, where he breathed in her scent. His nose found her precious clit as the flat of his tongue pressed against her opening. "Truly mouthwatering," he spoke, the heat of his words warming her body and made her squirm in anticipation. With eyes locked, he wasted no time plunging tongue into her depths and taking in all that she had to offer in earnest.

"Mmm~...."

Neither one unsure who made the sound, but as copious flavors flooded him and blooming within his mind, it gave fire to his blood and birthed his incessant need for her. It was irrational how fast she'd sewn herself into Tsukiyama's consciousness–– consuming his thoughts––just as he was consuming her now.

His nose rubbed circles into her engorged, sensitive nerves, a smirk formed on his lips when he heard her again.

"...Ah!" Yuri's grip wove themselves into his hair, holding on tightly and pushing him further into her, "m-more!" Her thighs gripped tighter around his head as her feet locked over his back.

He growled, the vibrations became the line connecting them, translating the words their lips couldn't form as he heard an ' _oh'_ wretch from her lips above him _._ Suddenly he ripped his mouth away from her mound, exasperated and hungrier than ever. Tsukiyama's face glistened from her nether region, and he lapped at his lips with satisfaction, while never breaking their locked gaze. He took out his handkerchief from his blazer to wipe off what his tongue couldn't reach. Taking a long sniff with closed eyes, they still showed them rolling back from underneath, before stuffing it in his pant pocket.

"What– no!" Yuri cried, the sob hung off her tongue; she was so desperate he could see it clear as day "I was so close!" Her head tossed side to side, whether from the lack of stimulation or the high of overstimulation, and nearly tipping over the edge.

"Do you want it?" He asked huskily; he hung suspended over her, hands on both sides of her head. His breath that smelled of her arousal blew onto her. Tsukiyama allowed her to feel his size through the quality fibers of his handmade suit.

"W-what?" She repeated, her mind still hazy.

"I said, ''Do you want _it_." Tsukiyama thrust against her, driving his point (both figuratively and literally) at her. He wasn't going to give her anything else without hearing her _beg_ for it.

Her whimpering was precious, and her fiery glare was palpable. "You're the devil, Tsukiyama."

"And how intimately you know him." His smirk spread, teasingly rocking his erection over her sopping lips. Paying no mind at all to the mess it surely made on his dry-clean only.

A hurried sigh relinquished to him he'd won. _"Please!"_

"Please, _what?"_ His devilish grin never wavered.

"Oh- for crying out... _Please,_ I want it–– _daddy!"_ Her flushed cheeks stained all the way up to her ears.

A sharp eyebrow rose at her choice of words, a daddy complex? He hadn't precisely pegged her as the type, but admittedly he had no complaints whatsoever. If that were the game she picked, he'd be a willing participant.

"You asked so nicely, who am I to deny daddy's little girl?" He cooed, already deciding he liked playing his role. The enamored ghoul worked his belt buckle off and trailed his zipper down slowly, torturing her with the metal parting's neverending sound. When he finally released himself, the cold air greeted him like an unwanted guest, and it ushered to the need to burrow himself into her warm home. "Is my precious ready?" 

His voice took on sugary, sweet nectar that had her lifting her hips to meet his. 

" _Yes~!"_ He couldn't tell if the blush was from her arousal or from revealing her dirty secret––undoubtedly both.

Even as she allowed him to see her in her exposed, vulnerable nakedness the previous night, learning of her particular kink lifted just another layer that shrouded her soul. Tsukiyama couldn't wait to find yet another veil to raise. Without waiting for a second more, he plunged into her depths. Only because as much enjoyed teasing her, he was becoming more desperate himself.

They both gasped together, the sound so real it was almost visible, and then it drifted away like a memory. But memories are footprints that water can't remove, not in his mind. His grip left indents on her hips, and he knew they would bruise in the morning, his first thrust was whole and harsh–pulling out nearly all the way then filling her to the brim. If there was a heaven, it was here, in her. It was unusual for him to be so caught up into sex so quickly; he was not a selfish lover, far from it. But it was unheard of for him to be so emotionally invested in the feelings that came with the act that sex felt like an elevating experience. For him was not an emotional endeavor, purely physical. Always.

And yet, he stood there with his head back, mouth open, and eyes closed as if he saw in his mind's eye the nirvana he'd been seeking, found inside her velvet grip. _I see it now; the rose garden bathed in light... a single Grandiflora in the center—mine pales in comparison._

And Tsukiyama, if anything, was a very generous and attentive gardener.

Yuri's nails gripped his forearms; his pressed NHK magenta button-up wrinkled under her strength. He looked down at her hands lovingly as he set a steady pace for them, she begged for him to go harder, but he wanted to make their time last as long as possible. No matter the thorns, a rose should always be handled with care and dedication, in his professional opinion.

She released his arms and took a hold of his tie instead––pulling him down to bring his kiss to her, like a leash to her dog. " _More,_ " She begged. His hips stuttered against her at the command.

Who was he to keep a lady waiting?

The force he alternated to, left her lungs empty and her breasts verberating. Both made because of him, both resonating because he wished it. Harmony and art, happening before him beautifully. Her hips tightened around him gradually, and her movements to meet his increased, and Tsukiyama could tell she was near. "No, not until I say, precious." His command caused her face to scrunch with displeasure, "not yet.”

"I-I can't," Yuri cried.

"You will, or this is it." He threatened as he pounded harder into her, soaking in her desperate moans and wailing, among other things. He could feel her contracting around him; even with her eyes shut, he knew she was trying to keep herself from going over the edge. The night before he'd found a sweet spot that she was especially fond of, he assaulted it without mercy.

"A-ah!" She was so close, the feeling around him was a ghost that haunted his dreams. "I'm coming!"

"No, what did I say?" He grunted, even as close as she was, he had to admit he wasn't much farther. Still, he didn't want it to be that easy. "Beg, beg for it, Yuri."

Yuri's head thrashed, moving side to side, holding fast onto his body. He wouldn't let her go; he wouldn't relent. 

"Tsukiyama! Please, I need–– I need it!" She screamed, he wondered if her neighbors could hear her. It excited him to think that they could.

"Need what, Yuri?" He said, through his thrusts. " _What?"_

"God! I need... I need to come!" Her voice echoed from the walls, the music that came from her was also proof he had tuned her well. "I need you to make me come on you."

A dark chuckle pervaded her chorus, a mind filled with a web of dark desires, but too reserved for vulgarity. "as you wish, dearest." He only needed a few more strong strokes, and her sweet spot hit a few more times before he knew she was there. "Come." He growled.

And she did. Her release was so overwhelming–– so powerful, she shakenly wept. And yet Tsukiyama kept powering through her waves, still not done. He still wasn't able to have enough of her. The ongoing stimulation had become too much for her, and he wondered if it felt cruel that he just kept going without an end in sight.

"I-I can't...."

"You will–" His thrusts became deeper, harder, stopping her protests. "You'll take all of it, all of _me."_ Each stroke was timed with his words, driving them not only into her, but engraving them as well. Tsukiyama's voice became ragged, and his head slumped downward. Hair falling just above her nose, with his groan and shuttering hips, signaled his end. He filled her completely; the heat and fullness he felt from her, strangely wasn't just lewdly semen and sweat, that which helped slow his heart into peace. What it was, though, he still couldn't place. 

Finally, he said, "I was wrong." His breathing short as he tried gathering his bearings, "you're not my Moon-Eyes." Yuri turned to him, confused, but gaze slightly unfocused. "You are my single blooming rose, radiating only for me. Always blooming–– always beautiful..." Tsukiyama gently tucked the strands of hair that strayed from behind her ear, "My personal Grandiflora, a rose that blooms only for me, by my hands alone." A lingering thought occurred, one he couldn’t help but whisper, “and perhaps a few famished thorns…”

If the ghoul became delf and never heard another sound again, the memory of their heavy breathing mixing in unison would be enough. "Every time we meet, a new way to describe you comes to mind: I collect them."

"I think you don't know what I am." She accused, a half-crescent smiled present.

His lips upturned, "only by name."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the last year or so, Japan had to relocate the local fish market in Tokyo because of the unfortunate event of the youtuber who went and bought fish and slapped it on windows of restaurants and putting them on taxis' as a sick joke. When I visited Japan in 2018 my tour guide told me, that because of the careless act of one man a whole market had to be uprooted and put on the neighboring island. It wasn't too far off the mainland
> 
> but you still had to go by boat to get to it now, to deter tourists from visiting which was always a big hot spot for tourists, and was acceptable, until now. :(


	10. No Turning Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuu finally gets his way...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It takes me a long time of debating and rewriting simply cause I doubt my direction sometimes and a lack of beta deters me, but that doesn't mean I quit this story, just delayed chapters. lol

There was a stillness that echoed long after the reverberation of heavy breaths and sighs left; that up until two hours ago, the sounds came from on top of her kitchen counter. Two hours later, Yuri laid flat on her back over sheets of her queen-sized bed. The stickiness of the damp night had forced her into a thin tank-top, and still, she sat uncomfortably. Canting her head toward her kitchen, even in the darkest hours after Tsukiyama left, she still could imagine the scene of their tryst replaying in the moonlight. Feeling foolish enough to reminisce, she turned her back to face the wall, stubborn enough to pretend it all meant nothing.

Whatever caused her to allow herself to be swept away by him so easily was beyond her comprehension. How was she not impervious to his debonair, sneakily clever hands? The man was a joke. Most times Tsukiyama was a squawking peacock, so at what point had he managed to ensnare her? How did coffee become…  _ coffee? _

An emotion she couldn't name overcame her and pricked the corners of her eyes. Clammy hands ran over her face and up to the roots of her hair. “Shit…” she mumbled begrudgingly, a nagging feeling in her was growing a voice, and she hated that it whispered things she dare not dream for.

______

_ “Where did you go,  _ chéri?”  _ The tender timbre of his voice was velvety as only Tsukiyama had, removing himself from inside her in the process, righting himself and meticulously began to redress her as well. “It’s rude to leave a lover right after, you know." He said piquantly, his index finger trailed a path from Yuri’s collar bone up the dip of her shoulder, sweetly tracing the precious veins beneath the skin of her neck.  _

_ “The night before…” She whispered, shedding light on the inner workings of her mind. Shying away to hide the embarrassment, surprising to even herself to have admitted as much, "back to the first night.”  _

_ After their intense moment taken over by passion, Yuri went into herself, taking leave of the current time and place with the man who just made mad love to her.  _

_...Love. _

_ Could she even use that word for what just took place? Was it not more like wild rutting with nothing else but the baser instincts driving two beings to have a natural reaction to biochemicals? Like causing ripples in the ocean knowing they would be the precursor to tidal waves–– was this to be the beginning of her downfall? Deftly, she lifted the hand that wasn’t lying limp on the ceramic marble of the counter and found his just as it reached her primary pulse, her blood racing again. _

_ “Ah… yes. Truth be told I’ve been quite prone to visiting that time recently myself; I’m very fond of that particular memory.” He resonated with her, winking at the same time. _

_ That cheeky… _

_ She didn’t know what else to say; she allowed him to soak up her space selfishly as she remained silent while he finished buttoning her blouse. _

_ “Such a pretty color.” _

_ “What?” _

_ Pointedly nodding to her shirt, “a very nice choice. The hues complement your dark hair,” as if she was getting a consultation for a new wardrobe, and he the fitter. She wasn’t rich enough for that kind of luxury. _

_ “You never told me you were a fashion designer, certainly could have fooled me.” She retorted with a bit more sass than she intended but found she didn’t mind. “It’s just purple…” Then she realized something profound. _

_ It was his color. _

_ Tsukiyama shrugged, then folded his arms, “hm, I dabble. Much like other things, I like to have a hand in everything that pertains to me-“ _

_ “Including me?” _

_ A second passed, “perhaps…” _

_ That sly smile again. OK, she deserved that, given what just took place.  _

_ “I’d like to know, does that night hold anything, particularly, special for you–– other than being spectacularly amazing of course?” He inquired cockily. _

_ Damn peacock! _

_ Yuri arched an eyebrow, “wow~, you don’t even need me to stroke your ego. You do it all on your own!” She deadpanned in fake surprise, what a vain man. _

_ “Nevertheless,” he urged her on, demanding an answer. _

_ Sighing internally, she fought to roll her eyes, “of course not.” She said finally, “tonight wasn’t even supposed to happen, much like the previous one. None of this was, now that I think of it. In fact, I think I deserve an explanation as to why you’ve so prominently inserted yourself into my life as you have! _

_ “And another thing, are you stalking me? No, really. Before might have been a joke, but I seriously question that you’re lurking behind every corner, because if so, you are sorely mistaken about what kind of woman I am.” Despite her words, she felt heat creep up her neck and to her ears. _

_ Now it was his turn to raise a brow, “dear lord, what are you, a nihilist?” An exasperated sigh blew in her face while pinching the bridge of his nose. "And what kind of woman, pray tell, are you, Ms. Miyoushi?” He moved closer to her suddenly, too close, with both hands planted on the counter next to her hips, their lips mere inches away. The thought of kissing him again was a notion she entertained rather than responding. _

_ “Not naive,” _

_ She set her jaw harshly, a melodious chuckle from Tsukiyama mocked her, and it perturbed Yuri further that it was from a joke she was not privy to. She crossed her arms, mirroring his previous stance.  _

_ “And why is that funny?” _

_ He did kiss her then, a chaste taste to tempt an urge, “Nor innocent, I would imagine.” He mused, ignoring her numerous questions, sampling her rosy lips a second time. Was he purposely stroking the ember within her? What did he see when he looked at her, a weak wanton woman, or did he catch glimpses of the beast hiding in her darkness? She placed the flat of her hand on his sternum, stopping him from closing the gap. _

_ “I think you'd better go.” She said sharply, void of any attachment, a look of indignation reflected back at her, he wanted her to… do what? What did he want from her precisely? “What?” _

_ “And how your cold heart sends my heart aflutter.” There was no tenderness this time, and his lips set into a hard line turning the cruelty right back at her. Was… he upset? _

_ “Tsukiyama, what are you expecting of me, what do you  _ want _ me to expect? You don’t care about me, and if you think I’m foolish enough to believe that you do, I think that would be the most insulting thing you’ve said so far.” _

_ His face became increasingly more frustrated and angrier, his brow knitted tight, and amethyst eyes blazed. “I-... I want,” Tsukiyama breathed in and exhaled loudly, visibly trying to regain his patience and control his temper. “I would like to take you out to dinner––my way.” He added quickly. Tsukiyama placed his large hand over her knee, the one that was idly swinging. Did it bother him? She knew she was difficult, she understood she was not loved and hated by most, that she could comprehend. What she didn't understand was why he still remained. But the warmth of his hand compared to the cold hard surface under her thighs felt so good she wanted his touch even more.  _

_ “Just dinner…?” Yuri asked skeptically. _

_ He nodded, “just dinner.” _

______

Yuri meandered to the kitchen island and picked up, yet another professionally printed card. The cardstock was clean and simple, black with red lettering. “The Restaurant?” She turned it over, there was no address or number front or back, “please tell me that this isn’t his, and he actually named it that.” If it was, and he did– wow… just wow.

The word amateur itched in her mind, and she fought to roll her eyes.

Nostrils flaring, she threw the card on the counter and walked away, she knew she needed to sleep, but the energy inside her was buzzing. So deciding to pull a bland book out of one cubbyhole from the shelf that held some books and others housed plants, she read till sleep finally found her, and it all was a peaceful nothingness.

It was late afternoon when she opened her eyes again and blinked the clock back into existence, cursing she stood up and rubbed her face while yawning. “How did I sleep so late?” She muttered, racking her nails through long, tangled strands, jostling them about doing her bedhead no favors.

It was a Saturday, and she was happy to remind herself today was one of her few days off; happy, that is, until her phone rang. The phone in question laid on top of the headboard that doubled as a shelf for her electronics, it vibrated with a standard tune that she let ring until the vibration nearly sent it cascading off the edge. Yuri turned the screen to face her but wasn’t thrilled by who she saw was phoning her.

The only relief she found in the name was that at least he hadn’t put himself in her contacts as something far more dreadful. A shudder ran through her, imagining honey or sweetie popping up on her phone while at work definitely would have been far worse. It continued to ring while Yuri simply starred and debated if it was worth picking up, but by the time her hand hovered over to swipe the button, she missed the call. A thought to return it crossed her mind, but hesitation won over and stilled her thumb over the green button. It took a full three minutes before the phone sounded again and this time she yanked it off its cord and snapped irritatedly, “hello?!”

“Ah, there you are  _ ma Grandiflora _ , I hope you are well this morning!” His lilting voice was so stark to how she felt but after last night, or maybe it over the short time he’s invaded her life, but it didn’t seem such a nuisance as she once thought.  _ “Chéri?” _

Yuri took a deep breath before answering, eyes pointed to the ceiling. “What do you want Tsukiyama?”

“You ask that so often love, when are you going to stop pretending you don’t know? A terse sound came from the other side, “end the charade  _ chéri _ , hm?”

“What!?”

She heard a deep inhale through the receiver, and it was satisfying knowing it wasn’t only her riding on the last nerve. As it stood, she thought some retribution was well deserved and long overdue; a few seconds of silence passed before Tsukiyama decided to return to the conversation.

“Dinner, Ms. Miyoushi, dinner.” 

Of course, she knew what he had wanted, but she’d never been one to give in so easily. With this man, it never was  _ just _ .

“Yuri, dearest, don’t be so reluctant. I swear it will be an experience you’ll never forget and– I have been dying to wine and dine you, _ ma chéri. _ ” The sad pout oozed from his voice like a sorry excuse for a begging puppy, but what was worse is that Yuri caved.

_ “Fine. _ ”

Something that sounded like a kid on a rollercoaster and a crying animal came out of the receiver. "You know when I asked last night, you never gave me a definitive answer. Which is why I’m calling now– you see tonight I planned a special event for you; I promise it will be perfect!”

“You didn’t even know I was going to say yes, and you already planned it?

“Always go with one's instincts, as they say.”

“No, you’re just a pompous ass that expects everyone to go along with your every wish.” She retorted vehemently.

“Well… you did agree,  _ non? _ ”

Yuri let out an explosive growl that was very telling of how he was getting to her, and hearing a small chuckle made the situation worse. “I’m going to kill you, Tsukiyama.” And that only served the sound to grow into a full fit of laughter that soured her mood even further.

“Aha-, oh please forgive me,  _ chéri _ , you are such a joy.”

“Glad I could be your entertainment…” She said bitterly.

“At any rate,” Yuri heard the gears shifting onward in the conversation, “I would be honored if you graced my own establishment with your presence tonight. The attire is formal, so I took the liberty of having an outfit prepared for you, which will arrive at your home at six-thirty sharp. I will be there to pick you up at seven-thirty, I trust that will leave you enough time to preen?”

“...Wait, how-”

“Oh dear Yuri, as I said last night, I like to have a hand in everything I do. It wasn’t hard for me to draw up the proper measurements for you, after all.” The insinuation wasn’t lost on her, and her eyes narrowed at the phone. “Anyways, that is all I wanted to discuss, and I have much to accomplish for our evening. I hope you have a lovely day my sweet, and I will see you tonight;  _ au revoir. _ ”

With a single click, he didn’t even wait for her to reply, “Uhg, rude…”

She threw the phone onto the bed after looking at the time. She still had most of the day to deal with the remains within her refrigerator, transport them to the freezer at the Seiren, shower, and do a bit of clean up before her supposed guests. After Tsukiyama left last night, she made sure to put away the cooler holding the remains of her most recent victim. How could she have been so stupid to have it out in plain sight for anyone to see and especially him? What would he have done, she wondered. Would he have instantly reported her–– no, she would have killed him before had the chance; Then, he would have screamed and run but only to drop dead before he reached the door.

An infinite stream of scenarios, all of which none resulting in anything but dismal disappointments. And how could she expect anything more than that? It was that cold truth that washed over her, pushing sensical reality back into her brain that she set out to accomplish the tasks, and finally, she would get rid of the foolish man who pursued her.

__________

Days had passed with nothing but two missing persons reports to show for it, all that followed was failure, and still, he’d only half a week left until his deadline.

“Useless!” Hiro shouted, throwing a file down on top of many others. Friday, a salaryman went missing, called in by his wife; then today, supposedly, a mother’s daughter never came home. All in the same night two people with no connections to each other were gone, and with ghoul activity slowly on the rise, knowing just how much he was losing the case against his theory of the perpetrator being human fast. Walls closing in around him and panic corrupting the confidence he once had, doubt sowed its seeds and clouding his thoughts.

With eyes closed, the investigator began to take deep easy breathes in the attempts to ease his building anxiety and shake off the overwhelming disjointed information that was beginning to meld together into a mess of incomprehensible knowledge.

He collapsed on the shoddy couch that catty-cornered the bed in his cheap hotel, he stayed here because it was closer to everything than his equally cheap apartment. He didn’t have anyone waiting for him, no one that waited up for or to miss him. He felt a tiny stab that felt like jealously; they were lucky. At least they meant something to someone… coming to the halting realization that that was why this case was so important–– 

“Because it’s all I have.” He whispered in defeat.

The sliver of hope he blindly grasped was nothing more than a faded light that disappeared when he reached out for it, and she was just a chef! He thought for sure it would point to something more and yet the woman became just another brick wall. Should he ask the other employees? Did the girl have friends there that they might have an idea of what she did or who she liked to hang with?

“What else do I have left, might as well.” Said with a heavy sigh, not expecting much to change.

The Seiren stared back at him, bold and proud, the sign wasn’t in Japanese but instead in English lettering in an intricate script, very European. The sign was what made it stand out so much from the rest of the district, aside from how much larger the building was compared to the others around it. Some of the locals felt disdain by its intrusion, and others, of higher pedigree, welcomed it. Hiro felt neither. Only a destination, and a beginning of which he never would have predicted.

Once parked, the CCG investigator circled the perimeter. Not that he was looking for anything per se, but when he arrived, he realized the plan thus far was equivalent to leaving and arriving, falling short soon after. Plans were half-baked at this point, and when he stood outside the doors, Hiro knew walking in and strolling into the kitchens just to start pulling people aside for questioning was not happening. The only conclusion then was to circle the outside, maybe catch someone throwing trash away, or an off chance a worker on a cigarette break. 

But what he found was neither. Instead, he turned a corner to catch a gleam of dark flowing hair and chic clothing. Satin and iron disguised as a slender woman. Never in his life had he met a woman such as her; when he interviewed Yuri in her office, it was like walking into a den and feeling eyes watching you within the darkness. The way she spoke, how she carried herself, if Hiro knew any better, the cave he wandered into was that of an Amur tiger.

When he followed behind her, he told himself it was for no other reason than curiosity, that there was nothing left for him but his intuition. And that was true, but also that night when he sat in the room with her, there was an unexplainable feeling inside of him–– a flight-or-fight impulse that he wasn't able to explain nor justify. It didn’t make any sense for him to feel threatened, he’d never witnessed her become violent or irate. To a fault though, he favored his gut-feelings. So faced with an opportunity like this, what else could he do but trail behind her, keeping a healthy distance through the back exit and following down a corridor that was suspiciously separate from the other pathways leading to the kitchens.

He couldn’t say the floor plans weren't altogether unusual, but… still curious about the gait she portrayed in such secrecy, and he wondered why. 

To his luck, she left the door ajar, giving him the perfect window to watch her from as she opened the icebox she carried and placed something inside a singular... deep freeze box? A freezer inside a freezer, what sense did that make? And why did it have fake yellow caution duct tape on it? An inside joke among the workers? For all the help a small crack in the doorway provided, it didn’t gift him the sight of what she had been carrying, though in all likelihood, it was nothing more than ingredients, right?

The feeling from the office resurfaced, that cold chill running up his spine wasn’t from the frosty room, and something didn’t seem right and it unsettled him. His gut was working overtime today.

Before he could assess what it was she had or if it deserved any of the foreboding permutations he felt, she started back towards him, forcing Hiro to quickly retreat and bound to the back door before she saw him.

When he sat in the comfort of his car he turned the ignition key but stalled in contemplation of what he saw with his hand resting on the stick shift, or lack thereof. He had no warrant and yet, he knew he’d be back there–sooner than later. Shifting into gear, the investigator left with one last thought; that this could make or break him, and he sincerely prayed he’d be spared the latter. 

“Who am I kidding? I won’t find anything... but it’ll ease my overactive imagination, at least.”

_______

“Red or white, sir?”

“The  _ Château Petrus Bordeaux _ will do nicely, I think,” Tsukiyama commented offhandedly, not looking away from the two ties held up in the air next to an extravagant, plum floor-length dress. Light reflected off the shimmering fabric clear to the bust and that was where it ended, being sleeveless and held together by a bodice. It would look marvelous on her, he decided when the attendants showed him the piece. He’d gone to the only retail he trusted and frequented for short notices such as this, needless to say, they never disappoint.

“What do you think, the paisley with plum accents or the silk Armani?” 

“Either would be fitting sir.”

That wasn’t what he asked, Tsukiyama thought dismissively. “The Armani then,” knowing the choice before he even asked, and continued dressing in front of a full-body mirror.

“Very good, sir” the head servant bowed. “Will that be all sir? Shall I pass anything else on to the staff workers for you?”

“Hm… no, I think that will be all–oh! Have our seat reserved with the best view, closer to the edge than my normal spot if you will,” he added. He wanted to see her face when she came to the epiphany of where she was and what he was, the sudden dawning that they were made for one another. This would be their turning point, when she’d be his. She would not die, no, something told him he always knew that, neither by his hand nor otherwise. The ghoul felt no ire by the fact though, all that radiated from his eyes and puffed up chest was pride. No one was worthy for them but each other, the same irrevocable truth that he'd come to know, would be revealed to her in time. “Have the car brought around, Matsumae, I must collect my guest of honor.”

“Of course, Master Shuu.” A devoted, motherly-looking maid bowed alongside the butler, “it will be waiting for you,” she said before both of them exited the room. 

“Tonight,” he said, slipping on his jacket and testing the fit, “will be perfect.” He sniffed, the Tsukiyama in the mirror smirked back, nodding. “Nothing could ruin this, you’ve got this, Shuu.” The smirk stretched from ear to ear.

“Perfect, huh?”

Tsukiyama didn't need to look to see who was sitting on his windowsill. “Yes, Little Mouse, perfect. Something you’d like to add, or do you intend to haunt my doorstep, sort to speak, all night?”

“No… not really, just here for the show, is all.” How perky was she, grinning like she knew something he didn’t.

"Well, the show is about to leave, so you might as well scurry on.” He said, straightening his tie

“I wish I could get a picture of her face when she finds out you’re the ghoul from before. Something tells me, she will have a lot to say about that.” Chie spoke flippantly, still fiddling with her camera. Had she looked up at any point, she would have noted the subtle pause as Tsukiyama’s hand stilled around his collar.

“It will be fine, she’s… a reasonable woman. The fallout will be manageable if any at all.”

“You don’t sound sure,” Chie parried.

“It will.” He forced back, ending the conversation.

“Ah well, I can’t wait to hear about it later then. I’m going to go get an ice cream sundae, that sounds good right about now,” she hummed. “Hope your date goes well.”

“...Thank you, and be safe out there, Chie.”

She nodded, despite everything they were friends––they both had their ways, and both were vastly different but for years now they had called themselves friends and their banter never put a strain on that. Tsukiyama didn’t look back to see if she walked out after him or merely jumped out the window, it was a marginally large drop from his room, one that definitely would result in some broken bones, but it was Chie, so he didn’t concern himself with how she saw herself out. If anything, he’d be surprised not to see her sitting inside his awaited limo before he even got down the grand staircase just to amuse herself. 

__________

By five Yuri was walking through the door at her apartment, setting her keys in the porcelain bowl and setting her jacket on the coat rack. She began her rituals, showering and scenting her skin with her favorite body scrubs, even deciding wine and a bubble bath was in order; pre-gaming, if you will. Knowing full well she’d have to loosen up to prepare herself for an entire evening of Tsukiyama; meditation and merlot were just what the doctor ordered.

Another fifteen minutes of soaking and an empty glass later, wrapped in a fluffy, white robe she began framing her eyes with eyeliner and mascara and dusting her cheeks in a faint pink blush. Not knowing what kind of dress to expect to arrive for her, she played it safe by refraining from anything but a natural color pallet. 

Time passed faster than she realized, and it surprised her when there was a knock at the door. Still snug in her robe, she cautiously peered through the crack behind the door chain. Not sure what to expect, but seeing a young man wearing what appeared to be a chauffeur suit, about her height maybe an inch shorter, with beautiful lavender hair, wasn't one of them.

“Can I help you?” At the risk of sounding presumptuous, she abstained from asking if the stranger was associated with the man. He did say someone would be here before him, was this them?

_ “Das ist für Sie.”  _

“...What...–”

“You have one hour before Master Shuu arrives for you."

The rife of blatant rudeness took over her and having a zipped garment bag practically thrust into her arms all but enraged her. “Excuse me, who are you?!” Yuri shouted, demanding some sort of explanation. He wore dark shades shrouding his eyes while still refusing to speak other than the German he callously barked. “Well?” She said after the long silence between them, gripping her robe tighter around her neck.

Even in the perfect Japanese, Yuri could hear the distinct accent that confirmed her suspicions, but it still was remarkable how alike he and Tsukiyama appeared. The man turned and descended the stairwell before she even realized, calling out after him, expecting him to stop and turn back, but wasn’t entirely surprised when the obscure messenger didn’t even slow down.

“....What the hell…” She huffed after slamming the door shut, was that on purpose? Did Tsukiyama intend to give her whiplash from the most odious person she could have ever met? Turning her attention to what she was holding, she pulled the zipper down halfway, and a shimmering satin dress peaked out. The decorated bodice was intricate with beadwork that was unbelievably beautiful. Yuri couldn’t imagine the price tag on the thing, thinking about Tsukiyama bothering with a trivial thing as money though, was hard. Most obnoxiously rich people usually didn’t.

She drug her feet to her bedroom, with everything set in motion, not much else to be done. With the time and date already set, dress delivered, and with the rude messenger gone– she set out to finish what she had started.


End file.
